Saturday, October 27, 2007

Deep in the heart of the jungle

I love my garden. Too often, my focus is on the future rather than in the present: what will I plant (roses or magnolias in the side bed; native shrubs or sunflowers against the back fence? - such awful dilemmas!); what needs to be done and when, and how will I find the time? I have a tendency to think about my garden in terms of getting things done, especially when my life becomes a series of getting things done, as it currently is. But of course, my joy comes not from ticking off an item on the "to plant in October" list but from being physically and mentally in the moment I am in.

When I focus down, I am struck by the small things - the mix of flowers, the growing vegetables, the changing needs of the space. I fall in love with the minutiae of my land.

When I look up I sometimes catch my breath at the abundance of my garden - all that green and promise, all the good things to eat and the sanctuary it offers to me and the critters who share the space.

I'm also struck that Al's reservations about the number of plants I squeeze into the space are not unfounded. This summer, there's a good chance we're going to lose the girls in there. They'll emerge two weeks later, brown and wild, bellies stuffed with raspberries, peaches and beans.


Today in yoga we did an extended series of oms, lasting a good five minutes. Such an amazing set of vibrations as the group slipped into harmony. And in my imagination, vibrant and real, beans and passionfruit vines climbed teepee supports and exploded in whirls of greens, growing into a huge and flowering tree. Very 70s, very trippy. That's what you get when a gardener pushes herself perhaps just a little too hard in yoga, I guess. I'm off to stick something into the ground, to make this happen.


Em said...

Lovely yoga thoughts! Yes, it's the small things, the tiny curves, the exact slant of light through a petal... I need to wander around aimlessly at least once a day :)

Marjorie said...

I love that part about losing the girls until they emerge "brown and wild, bellies stuffed with raspberries, peaches and beans." That image says so much to me about the lifeblood and family connection your garden represents...

zose said...

In 2005 I spent every sunday studiously establishing my (now a bit manic) cottage garden. Then I got preggers at the end of last year and lost the ability to do much.

Now with 3 kids and small business I'm watching with some concern as it begins to look raggedy.

I did enjoy a moment a few weeks ago, while hanging out nappies in gale force spring breeze, the "thudthudthud" of the windfalls from my lemon tree.
We enjoyed them on pancakes.

My aim for next year is to slowly donate my cottage garden to others and build a raised vege patch in my very tiny front yard.
And get more roses. The thing I love most is picking my own flowers and either enjoying them, or giving them to others.

In the meanwhile, I'm going to enjoy your garden. :)

Kez said...

lol at the image of losing your girls in the "jungle" :) Love the photos!