Late Bloomer

My hostas have long since finished blooming but I saw this little one by my front steps this morning.  Actually, it was the fern shadow that drew my eye but I immediately thought of a passage spoken by Brother Cadfael in the lovely Ellis Peters stories of the medieval monk who solves crimes..."However late rosebuds come, they always bloom equally in the end.  It could have been a metaphor for the quality of a life."   Today I celebrate the late bloomers.  p.s. If you look very carefully, you might see a wee crab spider checking out the flower.