There’s a scene in the civil war movie Cold Mountain where an old mountain lady, Maddy, having saved soldier Inman’s life, prepares to feed him goat meat.
Maddy: See. I think there’s a plan. There’s a design for each and every one of us. You look at nature. Bird flies somewhere, picks up a seed, shits the seed out, plant grows. Bird’s got a job. Shit’s got a job. Seed’s got a job. And you’ve got a job.
Inman: But, I’m a deserter. If they find me here things could be bad for you.
Maddy: What are they gonna do? Cut short me young life?
Maddy [she lovingly strokes the goat’s head and ears, like one would a beloved dog. The goat closes his eyes and revels in the attention]: I’ve learned a person can pretty much survive off a goat. A goat gives you company, and milk, and cheese… and when you need it, good meat.”
Maddy punctures the goat’s throat with a knife and the animal falls lifeless in her hands.
Maddy: Ya done good, goat. Ya done good.
I think of this scene when I replace dead flowers with new ones. I mourn the flowers, sad that I’ve robbed them of their wild glory all for my selfish pleasure.
But then I think…
I feel especially excited this week because my cut carnations used for Thanksgiving now adorn my family room table, still vibrant and stoic. With just a bit of attention and fresh water, they’ve lasted for weeks.