It’s Finally, Really, Autumn!

Blue-spotted birches

It’s such an outrageously beautiful day here. What a blessing an autumn day like this is! There are big fat spiders hanging all around my garden like fuzzy brown Christmas ornaments, protecting us from mosquitos; several of my roses are in bloom; and the sky is heartbreakingly blue. I wish I could spend the whole day gardening!

It would be the perfect day to plant a dozen new plant-babies, spread compost, and prune and whack to my heart’s content. I haven’t had a day like that in toooo long, and I wonder if that’s part of why I’ve been so lost in the dark? The Bible talks about ‘the long dry desert of the soul’, and most Christian teachers believe that it’s referring to the feeling of being separated from God that we all experience at one time or another…

I think that’s probably correct, and for me it’s shown up as a literal desert in my life. The total inability to nurture my garden, feeling cut off from the plant and soil-life that The Greatest Gardener has entrusted to me, and the renewal and spiritual connection I feel when I’m working… some people seem to get that from meditating, or doing yoga or studying their religion, but for me it’s getting down and dirty with the crawlies and weeds and flowers and trees.

This is a non-exclusive blog! I strongly respect and honor all life-affirming beliefs and cultures.  Whether I refer to God, or The First Artist, or The Greatest Gardener, my intent is to gently share my belief that our universe was created by some sort of organizing intelligence. At the same time I do not want to exclude those who do not share this POV, as it’s not part of my life mission to debate anyone nor whack them over the head with my beliefs.

What makes me saddest about leaving this garden is that it never became all that I’d imagined. There’s just never enough time, energy or resources. Had I lived here another five or ten years? Maybe… maybe not. A garden is never truly finished, but perhaps it would have come close enough to maturation that I wouldn’t feel like I was abandoning a vulnerable infant… all that potential, unrealized. I feel as though I’ve been given something fragile and precious to care for, to bring back to life, and that walking away now is a violation of that trust. It can’t be helped, I know that – we have to do things sometimes that our hearts don’t understand. But that doesn’t always mean it’s easy.

At the same time, I’m positively hungry to start over at another patch of soil! To bring what I’ve learned in the last 10 years, to eliminate the mistakes I made here (and undoubtedly make new ones), and dream new dreams of what it can become.

I have no idea what the next few months will bring. Right now my mantra is “one day at a time”. But I have learned one thing – that whatever comes along will certainly have to include some form of gardening in order for me to stay healthy and happy and strong!