We belong to the earth

That simple sentence has had me thinking for days about my place on this planet, about humanity’s place as a whole, and about how to change that. Different species co-exist in my yard, while eating and digging up much of what I try to grow. While the rest of the population eats and drinks together, taking turns when necessary, I enter the scene and they all flee.

I am trying to gradually change that, by sitting in my yard and minding my own business. But this situation is bigger than just me. I firmly believe that humanity may be ensuring its own demise by mishandling this beautiful planet that normally sustains us. Tornados, hurricanes, wildfires, floods, heat waves, extinctions and rising ocean temperatures all seem to be signaling that we are an infectious disease the planet is trying to fight off with everything it has.

Still we insist on clearcutting forests, throwing our garbage into the oceans, destroying topsoil, polluting the air, and paving paradise. We have separated ourselves from nature and declared that we have dominion over it.

This has changed my perspective as a sometimes gardener. I am older, slower, weaker, and have less stamina than in the past. I am on a fixed income/tight budget. Meanwhile the critters are multiplying; more bunnies, squirrels, deer, and birds – all destructive to a garden, to some degree. This affects me in relation to them, and to my garden.

I nurture what survives the onslaught of diggers, eaters, and those who like to nap on seedlings. Potatoes do well. I like to nap in the sun; so I pull my chair close to a bird feeder and to seed scattered on the ground. Slowly some of the critters adapt to my presence and aren’t scared away so easily. I enjoy watching the birds mating, the fawns kicking up their heels, the squirrels chasing each other up and down the tall fir trees, spiraling; and the bunnies munching oh so fast.

In my garden, I chop and drop weeds, mulching as I go. I scatter seeds everywhere, trusting that some will germinate. I spend time just watching the bees and other pollinators. I water deeply. I harvest herbs. I spend more time watching and learning, breathing in synch with it all.

I want so much to belong to this world.

Happy Mother’s Day

I had my two sons relatively close together. Since I breast fed them both…first one, then the other 17 months later…the nursing years seemed to stretch on forever. I call them “the lost years.” Not because I didn’t love them over the moon and back, but because by the time the younger one was…maybe three?…I realized I started slowly having more than 15 minutes at a time to myself. These mere minutes I like to call “time on my hands.”

What does one do with this time? I don’t have to change a diaper, nurse, bathe them, fix a meal, fix their skinned knees, wash clothes, entertain them (short attention spans means extra work), clean up after them…so then what?

I rediscovered my knitting needles and yarn stash. I’d been knitting since I was a pre-teen but had forgotten that “I used to do this.” I started a small garden…then a bigger one…but it wasn’t until those two babies were in high school that I started writing again. I volunteered in my community, eventually starting up a community center with the help of so many others. I started a farmer’s market. I started freelance writing and a friend and I started a knitting business.

Now I’m 75 and writing, knitting, and gardening still. My sons have had kids of their own, so I don’t need to call them up at 2:30 am to tell them I need to pee (a sort of revenge I thought of but never actually did.) I look at an occasional photo of them growing up and nostalgia creeps in. Their kids are growing up, some are adults. I think about how I loved being pregnant.

And now the wheel is turning. I think about reincarnation. Assuming I don’t reincarnate as a fruit fly or a cucumber…I dream of giving birth all over again. Some idyllic place with a loving partner and a tribe of monkey-children, wild and free, experiencing life with every part of their being.

~~~Adapted from the song “Pass It On” by Bunny Wailer~~~

“Be not selfish in your doings

Pass it on

Help your children in their needs

Pass it on

Live for yourself, you’re gonna live in vain

Live for others, you will live again.”

Bless the Mothers.

Finding maturity in my garden

Indeed…

My best friend brings out the child in me. He who shall not be named brings out my inner Terminator. Online friends reveal my inner comedian. My sons draw the love and patience from my heart and soul.

The outdoors reveals my true self. Getting older and slower, weaker. More inclined to sit and listen, smell, feel, taste and imagine. More apt to let the wind plant for me than to bend or kneel.

NO, never kneel. One day I may not be able to get up; meanwhile, those knees hurt so bad.

The world is so beautiful just as it is; anything I can add is frosting on the cake.

Future wildflowers…

Or maybe a little bit of cleanup after the winter winds dropped things on the ground…

Have you noticed how pink spring can be?

Raucous red gets my blood moving again. I become a one-woman riot!

Speak up, speak out, be all sides of yourself. With graceful honesty.

Love, your garden.

Gardening with Calvin and Hobbes…in the maritime Pacific Northwest

If I get my timing right…the unexpected showers can be a definite blessing. For example, it’s spring and I finally read the back of the seed packs of some native wildflowers. Oh great…”best if planted in the fall.”

Since I am planting in the spring, I kept on reading. “Plant on the surface of the soil and water daily.” Sigh…I am already feeling like a slave to my garden. Not really. A watering can does the job – easier for me than dragging a hose…

Lines from a poem written by a friend:

“we are what we are not; we are what we want to be…we are both”

This cartoon and this poem reminded me why I love C & H so much. Because I am both.

Like the weather…like my garden…like Calvin…I can be obstinate, sarcastic, hot-headed, imaginative, and egotistical.

Hobbes is rational and aware of consequences. playful, loyal, kind, and objective. So am I.

Spring weather can be both the lion and the lamb. My gardens always start with somewhat of a design but quickly lean toward chaos. The squirrels and small birds help with that.

If you’re into astrology…I, born in March, have a sun in Pisces and my rising sign is Virgo…where Saturn also resides. My astrologer friend used to say, I’m a Pisces (deep down inside) who thinks she’s a Virgo.

“If I only could bring logic and order to the world…if everything and everybody just did things my way…oh forget it, that’s too much work. Back to daydreaming…”

Gardening: growing ourselves

A garden can provide us with food, beautiful flowers, and herbs for health and added deliciousness, but it can also add stress and even unnecessary competitiveness. We can link our results to our identity more than is healthy.

This is why I find solace in chaos gardening. I do what I can to the best of my knowledge and abilities, working with what I have and what I am. I am content to step back and let nature do its thing. Gardening is self-expression; it brings me peace if I can laugh at my mistakes; it allows me to grow as I watch the plants grow.

These plants and I have a deeply symbiotic relationship. I give them what I can; they return the favor. If our relationship becomes too stressful, we take a step back. Eventually, we come to terms with our differences and remember what it is that gives us joy in our relationship.

Our imperfections, mine and my garden’s, are what make us unique. If I work with nature, with presence and care, both of us will be in some way beautiful. Neither of us are concerned with trying to impress anyone.

As I work with care in the moment, it is the process that brings us joy and peace. The results are beautiful, in their own way. Chaos with a touch of Zen