A flower meadow in summer

beauty for the soul

Colorful, lush, and diverse flower meadows have become rare. As part of the ecological project, the meadow is now, in mid-June, in full bloom.

People love to spend time here, letting their gaze wander over the colorful variety of summer flowers and the delicate grasses that sway elegantly in the breeze.

Time flies; there’s so much to discover: different areas of the meadow with varying slopes, sun exposure, soil moisture, and nutrient content. This results in different areas of flowering: daisies here, rattles here, a cluster of delicate meadow bellflowers there, and lilies glowing from the greenery over there.

It’s beautiful here. “The meadow is a true work of art,” says the farmer who tends to it, ensuring proper mowing, aeration, and sun exposure for the soil with expertise and quiet observation.

One feels enriched after visiting a flower meadow—fresh, cheerful, invigorated, alive. It’s as if forgotten tones or qualities within oneself—which seem to have faded or withered away in the stress-filled rhythm of everyday work—are being nourished anew and gently stirring to life. It is not only the eye that finds stimulation and enrichment, but also the realm of human sensation.

Heinz Grill, among others, describes how every plant embodies a certain expression, a signature. It represents a concrete, specific quality in nature. A certain ethereal essence—or, one might say, a virtuous force.

While we are familiar with several areas in which humans and plants interact—as producers of oxygen, as a source of food, as remedies, and as irritants and toxins, for example—we are generally unaware of the additional, more subtle level. This more subtle expression speaks to us on a spiritual level.

With regard to lavender—which, however, is cultivated as a garden plant in our part of the world and is not to be expected in a wildflower meadow—this was elaborated upon in the last article based on statements by Heinz Grill.

The next time you look at a wildflower meadow, for example, this thought might accompany your gaze. Simply by asking the question, we can experience a sense of expansion. Perhaps it manifests as a subtle, joyful sensation; perhaps as a deeper connection; perhaps the flowers will stay with us into the next night and the next day.

If you reflect on this observation again the next day, you may realize what a big difference it makes how—and with what thoughts—you look at the flowers and the meadow.