Monday, March 9, 2009

The Garden Knows


About this time of year, I get the opportunity to expand my patience. We've already discussed how this in an on-going lesson for me. It's all good, then.

I look about outside, I can since nothing is falling out of the sky for a change, and I observe the gardens and think, "Wow, you need a hair cut and a shave or something!" Everything is just a little scruffy. Unkempt. Not really messy, but far from adorable. Like the cute guy who shows up at your door to pick you up for a date and you can't help thinking, "Oh, is that what you're wearing?" Nice but just not quite right. Time to get it back into pleasing order. The gardens, I mean, not the guy. He's on his own...

The longed for sounds and songs of the returning birds is almost surprising. It's like someone hit a switch. Yesterday, there was no sound of birds. Today, I hear a robin...a mockingbird...a nuthatch...a crow. And, far off in the distance, my favorite, the cheeky tiny chickadees.

I begin to clear away the debris that's built up over the long winter. I start snapping off the brown bits and sticks. I remove all the leaves that lay like a soggy brown mat...yuck. I stand up to look around with satisfaction over my hard work...and there's none.

Everything looks the same. Brown. Twiggy. Limp. Unresponsive. Possibly dead. Sigh. I stand and stare at the ground as if I could will something green to shoot out of it! Nothing.

Humph! Where's my reward for being a good steward of my earth? Come now! The Queen is not amused. My fingers are frozen because the earth is still like an ice cube just under the surface and I did pull some bold weeds. My back is tight from the bending because it is out of practice for this. And, the wind has blown a bit too much to be really comfortable out here.

Give me something to work with, here!!!

I stomp inside to get a drink and stretch my back for awhile. And, mustering my determination, I go back at it again. Not sure what I'm looking for, just knowing that I will know it when I see it.

Pushing the mulch this way and that...clearing away some more. Almost giving up. But, no wait, there it is, I see it!!!! The first feathery leaves of a crocus patch....and some daffies attempting to push up through the crust of leaves...yes!

It's really coming after all. Spring is on its way. A full moon to shed light on the warming nights adds to the crescendo. Just when I was thinking it was all gone. It's on it's way.

Patience is a virtue acquired by habit. I have to learn to trust the natural order of things. Even when I think there's no movement or possibility. Most times, things are going on just below the surface. It's all good. As it's meant to be.

Namaste' Till Next Time,
Holly

7 comments:

Toni said...

oh shaddup. patience, shmacience, try making me read this post at about, say, September 21st, when it's been over 112 degrees since May 1st ...

meanwhile, you're right, of course. & the underground workings are usually the most potent ...

Holly said...

Nope. Not I. I've visited your part of the world, and I can say you're a better woman than I because I couldn't live there. Too hot. For too long. With only two seasons: Warm & Too Fin' Hot! So, you can come visit when you need the cool and reasonable. I'll come to see you when I need the spice and salsa of life!

Anonymous said...

Here, OTOH, is just freakin' perfect! LOL!
Wish your garden was still on LG Rd. - you'd have crocus today, and perennial sprouts. I have motherwort in the door garden, and iris and lilies poking up past the chicken depredations....

MelissaS said...

Patience is the one lesson I cannot seem to learn. Mel (remember Mel?) has tried to teach me patience since I popped out in the world... sadly for him he failed miserably. I still have no patience, especially when waiting on something... or someone!

PureCommonSense said...

I have patience with pretty much everything in life except the internet - if 5 seconds go by and the page isn't open I say to myself "why in God's name hasn't this page opened yet!?" My friends always get annoyed when I tell them to relax and be patient with themselves.

Whitney said...

This reminds me of my Mom! She used to always try to get me to help her garden. I hated it! Hated the aching back and knees. She had too many flower beds anyway. I did however like the finished product and would always take tulips and hyacinth back to my room!

Opie said...

Patience comes quick and easy to me, I've actually been told that I'm too patient at times. All though there are moments when my patients runs a little thin...when someone is doing a job that I have done, and I feel they are sub-par. e.g. bartenders and servers, it drives me crazy when they're not on the ball.

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