Seattle is the red star. I’m a little NW of that. Being in a somewhat clear area is encouraging but obviously the optimism is only temporary. And “cold unstable air”? At least in the present moment everything is stable, just the tiniest wisp of a breeze. But it’s 45 degrees, man. Not sticking my hands into cold wet soil today.
There are weeds to be pulled, chaos to be pushed back, oregano to be pulled/harvested/burned, and a seedbed to be watered (that I can do) because this is the second day of no rain. Just the seedbed today, just the seedbed…then go back inside to another cup of coffee and a day of writing.
It’s not even May yet…May is usually iffy, June is sometimes iffy, the NW joke is that July 5th is the first day of summer…
Be awake. Be aware. But don’t let the darkness overcome you. Despair, depression…don’t you want to be happy? Take a lesson from oppressed people around the world.
They don’t give up hope, they find joy, they remember to dance and laugh.
Many traditional African dances mimic planting seeds and harvesting. Dance is not separate from everyday life. It supports and describes life.
Weeds…oregano gone wild…daffodils deciding they’d rather come up in the middle of the path this spring…that one big unknown plant taking over the herb bed…that rugosa rose that keeps getting whacked by the string trimmer…the hazelnuts that have never produced nuts…the apple trees that barely produce any tiny apples…
It is too cold to do anything about it, now…
So I glory in the beauty of the clear blue sky…I rejoice that I don’t live in northern Florida, under snow…I bask in the sunshine streaming in my window…I delight as the birds slowly return…I laugh at the squirrels…I wonder how many more rabbits will appear…and how many of the does in my yard are growing fawns inside…
I exercise to tone my body, gaining strength and flexibility slowly…I continue testing seeds (oh joy! my very old basil seeds sprouted exuberantly!)…I wait patiently…
Age has taught me, it’s never too late to do more than you did yesterday…more exercise reps…more house cleaning…more laundry…more writing in my journal…more sleeping…eating more vegetables…
And it’s never too late to do less…less worrying…less eating…smaller portions, fewer carb snacks…less judging…less focusing on imperfections…
As I gaze at my sleeping garden, I love it more, anticipating the return of the color spring green…
As I look within myself, I love myself more, anticipating a year of returning joy outdoors and expanding joy in my heart.
Neither my garden nor I are diminished by our flaws.
I read somewhere a description of gardening as “think of your garden as your living room.” I look at my living room and think, it looks pretty solid, unlike the ocean a few blocks away.
In reality, it’s fluid in that, over time, the furniture has changed position, some pieces have moved to other rooms or out of the house entirely, to be replaced by others.
The same is true in my garden(s). An entire vegetable garden was established and then abandoned. The neighbor planted invasive bamboo to the west; no more afternoon summer sun, and the roots have invaded the beds and are impossible for me to dig up. Small trees were planted to the south and east, now grown so tall as to block sun from those directions as well. Roots from other neighboring older trees have also invaded the raised beds. Only a few bushes remain in this garden.
In the other two garden areas, squirrels and rabbits and slugs munch on everything except the oregano that marches on, spreading everywhere (even into the gravel driveway.). Other herbs also survive…rosemary, lavender, echinacea.
When windstorms pass through, tree branches inevitably fall on fences.
But gardening carries on…chaotic at best. I moved a small flowering plant from where I originally planted it, at the base of a fir tree in the middle of the driveway loop, in that shaded area above. The plant was desperately trying to grow around the tree, reaching for more sun. So I planted it in my herb garden…where it thrives. But now it is trying to take over the herbs, so I must trim it back aggressively.
Today I discovered the daffodils that decided they wanted to move…towards the aggressive unknown flowering plant. So now I really need to trim, and move the path…
My husband built me a small raised bed in that same area, hoping to please me since raised beds are my passion as I approach my mid-seventies. Not raised quite enough; one 2×6 deep, I will still need to kneel to tend to it. For me, my knees have not been strong my entire life, so…what to do…I will plant herbs and flowers I hope will be the least attractive to all the critters…perennials…mound up the bed by moving soil and placing a couple layers of small branches and unfinished compost down and then putting the soil back in place on top. The combination of perennials and materials that will break down slowly over time will mean minimal maintenance. Trim plants back some every year, cut and drop weeds, add some mulch on top every fall…easy.
My husband also promises a new raised bed on legs this spring, with protection against critter invasions. Hope for the future, knowing fully well that there will be trials and errors, with plants moving from place to place until they find their forever homes…as forever as one can hope for. A plant dies now and again, only to return to the soil and feed what follows…mitochondria, an annual flower, a perennial herb, or a majestic fir tree, never far away.
