Reblooming

On my walk the other day I noticed a lilac bush sporting these small clusters of flowers.

Lilacs in October.

An old superstition says that flowers blooming out of season portend a death.

I am not worried, however.

A recent edition the K-State Research and Extension Horticultural newsletter told the story.

Spring blooming plants continue to grow through the summer after their bloom season. As sunlight hours dwindle and the weather becomes colder the plants go into dormancy.

This year the periods of hot, dry summer weather sent them into an early dormancy. When the weather became more hospitable, they broke dormancy and bloomed. Unfortunately, that means they're unlikely to bloom at their appropriate time, or at least not as prolifically as usual.

Don't plead. You can do nothing about it but give them tender, loving care.

I was a prolific writer (had to be because I worked for a newspaper) and even enjoyed writing. I found inspiration all over the place and wrote both prose and poetry, fiction and non-fiction. I also wrote a gardening column for my newspaper, which I loved, and started this blog.

However, several years ago, the gardening column stopped being fun. My other writing dwindled. Something caused it to drop petals and seemingly die, forced it into dormancy.

I wondered if I really was a writer anymore. But I had ideas and had writing projects collecting dust. I felt old and incomplete.

Gradually, however, green shoots sprang up.

A little leaf here and there.

Now buds are forming.

 This blog is beginning to green up.

Blossoms are coming. 

No poetry yet, but I think the roots are growing. They just need a bit of nourishment.

Fallowness can bring good things, if one doesn't wallow and moan. I'm starting to feel like bits and pieces of me are coming back, brighter and wiser, perhaps.

I'm breaking dormancy and ready to bloom again.

What's Going On

A lot is going on at our little homestead.

Kale, collards, arugula, brussels sprouts for greens, "spring" radishes, purple daikons, and some winter radishes, as well as cilantro. The little garden beds also sprout lettuce, but it's been a tough go getting that to grow, for some reason.

And then this (see above) has happened.

The retaining wall for the garden area in front of our house is finished. (Trumpets and cheers!)

It's beautiful, and I couldn't help but show it off.

The actual garden area in front is still a bit rough and a long way from being ready to plant, but it's getting there. As soon as the pile of gravel gets transported to the back yard for our tanks, and the little piles of rock are moved, we'll bring in a load of dirt and rabbit poop to till in. We may do some "lasagna" gardening then to make sure the vinca is dead, then determine where the paths will go.

Still lots to do, such as planting buffalo grass on the paths in the spring, and planting the landscape plants on the lower tier.

But much progress has occurred and I will keep you posted. 

My next task is to cut herbs to dry and bring the terra cotta pots under cover, although I'm not sure where I'll put them. The garage is full and they're too heavy to take up the ladder to the attic. I might have an idea here, but I'll see how it works.

This afternoon I'll get some oak logs to cut up for the bottoms of our tank garden. I'll cover the subject of hugelkulture in stock tanks for growing. That deserves its own post and photos. This will be a first for me, and I'm excited.

Much has occurred and much has yet to be done. 

When we had conversations about moving from our country place I felt reluctant because I did not want to start everything over. However, I am excited about the building process here, trying new things and seeing how much I can grow in our small (to me) space.

Loving it.

Updates to come.💖

Light

 

The waffle clouds glowed orange-pink in the morning sunlight as I sat out front sipping coffee.

Three crows flew in, resting a moment in a tree, then flew off. That felt like a blessing.

Something quietly exploded inside me, not like bombs and disaster, but like fireworks and celebration. A brilliant light of quiet joy opened a channel. Ascension?

A neighbor pulled out of her driveway to take her children to school. She stopped at the entrance to the street where a hole had been dug when the water main broke Sunday evening. She and her 10-year-old daughter got out and took the skeleton resting against a tree and leaned it on the fire hydrant that workers had left in their yard, standing tall on its pipe that had previously been buried in the ground. Later, when I took my walk, I giggled when I saw the skeleton grinning and waving at passersby.

Seeing the young girl doing that with her mother took me back almost 60 years to when my parents were contemplating repainting our house and asked me, an 11- or 12-year-old what color I thought we should paint it. My young girl self felt so proud and mature with that small question that I wrote it in my diary. I had been invited into a small bit of maturity. I wondered if that young neighbor girl also felt a sense of impending maturity in stepping out with her mother to do something silly.

The sky brightened into pastels as I sat on two stacked pallets sipping coffee. Joy and Light continuing to expand inside me as light brightened in front of me. I wandered to the backyard that contains my little gardens and sat watching the sun turn the tops of the trees in the adjoining woods golden.

Ascension.

Joy. Peace. Holy, holy.

Peace

 

When we first began contemplating selling our country home, I sat on a stone in the middle of our big garden and wondered if I would be able find a connection to nature in town. I kept telling myself I should be able to connect with Nature anywhere. But I couldn't quite believe it.

Later, after selling the 30 acres we moved into a neighbor's basement with a view of oak woods and horse pasture. While watching her horses peacefully grazing one morning, I wondered if I would be able to find that kind of peace again.

I have.

Gazing at the woods one day before we moved everything in I found that peace and connection with Nature -- with the trees, and other beings there. Birdsong predominated even though I could hear distant traffic.

A couple of evenings ago I went to the backyard, where we had just planted a fair sized witch hazel and felt such deep peace -- even as a neighbor boy practiced his drumming in the garage next door.

Peace and connection are not dependent on where you are or what you hear.

Both are something that begin inside, in the heart, in the Soul.

What I kept trying to tell myself earlier is Truth. I am not separate from Nature, for I am Nature. We humans are animals born from this Earth. Can we, will we remember that?

And Peace is always inside us, we simply need to look for it there.

I try to pray for Peace in the world every night at 8 pm.

First: Peace be in my Heart.

Then: Peace be in every Heart.

Peace, Peace, Peace.

Then I sing, "Dona, Nobis Pacem Pacem."

"Grant us Peace."

Will you join me?

PS The photo is of berries growing on large shrubs at the edge of the woods that I have been unable to identify. If you know what the shrub is, please share.

Abundance and Blessings

 

Abundance is Everywhere...

A plethora of little cherry tomatoes, the last of this season...

A dense growth of young kale (that I started thinning today) for fall harvest...

Good neighbors, good friends, good family surrounding us...

People willing to help in so many ways, if we just ask... sometimes even when we don't ask...

Too often we feel we are in poverty because we don't see the blessings and abundance surrounding us, and running through our lives like threads of gold.

But we are surrounded by abundance, regardless of any lack in our lives.

We simply need to look for it.

I certainly am not perfect in this. I focus so intensely on one aspect of my life where I feel a lack that I fail to recognize what it represents, and to give thanks for what it means to my continued health. It is an opportunity, not a lack. My perspective and expectations make it seem like poverty.

It is not. It is a blessing.

Blessings and abundance fill my life, if I simply pay attention, notice what they are... Some things fall apart, so we need to cast our gaze on what is going well... even if it is small...

In general, my tomatoes did not do well this year. I had none to dehydrate or freeze.

But these cherry tomatoes (Sun Peach) did quite well and continue to give their all. Most likely they will continue to do so until cold weather steps in.

Abundance may come in small ways, but it is abundance still.

Thank you.