Jack-in-the-Pulpit

Ed and I spend a lot of time tromping through our woods – seeking and destroying purple thistles and invasive honeysuckle. With a shortage of rain this summer, most of what we see on the ground is light tan in color – you know, like that of dried grasses or already-fallen leaves. So on Saturday, I was excited to look down and see – popping up from the forest floor – a short green stem ending with a large cluster of the most brilliant red berries. I brought it home to look up in our wildflower book.

Turns out it is the seeds of a jack-in-the-pulpit, which made me exceedingly happy. For you see, hanging in our pantry window is a piece of stained glass that features none other than jack-in-the-pulpit.

Like all the art in our home, it is dear to my heart and has a story behind it.

Through the years, Ed has found most of our art. He has a great eye for art and seems to always be just a step or two ahead of me in terms of art appreciation. Which means that sometimes when he gives me a piece of art, I thank him sincerely and trust that I will grow to love it. And I always do. Some of my favorite pieces took me a while to fully appreciate. I take charge of framing and figuring out where to display the art. And then – sometimes slowly – I come to love it.

Not so with this piece of stained glass. I spotted it at the Kentucky Museum of Art and Craft and fell in love on the spot with it. I told Ed about it that very night. Going on and on about how much I loved the colors, the type, the etchings of leaves in the background. He just kind of grunted and I wasn't sure he was even listening to me. So I decided to take things into my own hands and go back and purchase it. Two days later, I headed back to the museum's shop on West Main Street only to find that it had already sold...

A year or two went by and from time-to-time I'd think about the piece and how much I loved it. So imagine my delight on Christmas morning three years ago when I opened a gift from Ed. It was my much-loved stained glass. He had listened, and he had quickly acted, and then had stashed it away in his closet to give to me for a later occasion.

It hangs in the window of our pantry and I marvel at it every time I see it. It's like it embodies everything about our new life in the country -- the beauty, the freshness, the colors, the wildness and the hope.

I plan on planting the found red seeds of the jack-in-the-pulpit. I'll find a shady spot in the forest, not too far from the house. And I'll watch in the spring to see if some tiny jack-in-the-pulpits appear.

Note to self: I planted half the seeds behind the round hay bale just inside the forest and the other half just over the dam, uphill from the willow tree.