Nature and Garden Thoughts

Nature and Garden Thoughts---

You never hear a grumpy bird.

Weeds work hard at belonging.

Tilled earth awaits.

The outside cat is the real owner of the place.

Nesting mother Robins are excellent dive bombers.

A gentle rain whispers--Come walk in me.

Bunnies burrow beneath bushes.

Sit outdoors with your eyes closed and listen to the world around you.

Flower boxes are party dresses on houses.

Gardeners move plants.  Plants move gardeners.

Raking causes tired arms and shoulders and dispositions.

Does talking to plants encourage them to be their best?  Can't hurt.

Who decided weeds are a bad thing?

Who needs moderation in a garden?

Not all plants or people are self-starters.

Dirty fingernails can be prevented by wearing gloves, I'm told.

Piles of color fall leaves are fun.  Piles of brown spring leaves are work.

Bird baths--spas in the garden.

Wonder if plants think about the gardener?

Rocks just lay around.

Crab grass makes me crabby.

Blank spaces in the garden are invitations waiting to be written.

Be aware of your surroundings.  They bring inspiration.

How many times can a plant be moved before it rebels?

Five pairs of mud caked tennis shoes or one pair of rubber boots?

A mole is an underground machine of yard destruction.

Plants, like people, bring diversity to this world.

Spring is a  promise of golden days yet to come.

Koi in the garden pond must have names.

An early morning walk through the garden is a feast for the senses.

If Creeping Charlie were a cash crop, I'd be a millionaire.

Surrender the notion that your plant beds will be weed free.

Shovels--dirt movers.

A broken blue egg--one less Robin in our world.

What to do about beaver chewing on my trees?  A new fur coat?  No, chicken wire.

I cannot paint a picture on a canvas, but I can paint the earth with color and texture.

Birds and wind move plants to unexpected places.

Some landscapes are perfect.  Others are a bit scattered.  Which is best?  Depends on the owner.

Deer with purple juice dripping from their mouths--there goes my berry pie.

It never ends--this thing called gardening.

Stop looking through landscape books!

Our bully hummingbird has returned.

Happy Spring!

Reflections

This is the first essay I wrote with the title of Reflections.  I have decided to post it, also.  


And life goes on.

It continues amid chaos.  It moves forward through sorrow.  It marches ahead with resolution.  It simply moves.

And while it moves toward the new tomorrow, hundreds of people are forever changed.  The tomorrow they will meet is so very different from the now they are experiencing.  Each day will present challenges that are new.  Nothing will be the same as it was the day before.  Those days before are, for this time,  swallowed up by the changes of the now.

We ask why knowing even as we ask  there is no response that will satisfy.  No words that move us from anger and hurt to understanding.  No words yet invented to explain these senseless acts.  We see pictures of people walking through happy crowds with an agenda so different.  They blend in.  They look like everyone else.  Out for a walk through the city on a day of celebration.

No behaviors that signal the intent within these people.  Nothing to cause alarm.

What moved them to make the decision to destroy?  Why not simply return to the homeland and live out lives with those they love?  Does killing make something better for them?  I don't understand.  At all.

  We watch our citizens rush to help even when their own safely is compromised.  We see the pictures of strangers comforting victims.  And our hearts swell with such pride.  We cry with those who are mourning the death of their family members and friends, for those who must learn a new way to live in this world, for those first responders who saw what no one should ever see.  We pray for the healing that will come--slowly.  The healing of spirit, mind and body.  We pray for people who will help them walk this new walk.  And we are thankful for the skills and love of those doctors and nurses who were faced with unimaginable injuries.

Where do we go from here?  We go where we have always gone.  To work, to church, to family events, to games, to hospitals to visit and offer support, to funerals of those gone too soon.  We continue with our lives because we have no other choice.  However, we move forward with new understanding of this world.  Will this new understanding cause us to cease from living full lives?  No, it will not.  If that was the intent, they failed.

I will close this with a quote I read years ago.  I don't remember where I found it, or who wrote it.

"One act of compassion and caring can change a life forever. "  Yes, it can.

Take care.

Reflections

Reflections--


And life goes on.

Days follow days.  Seasons melt into one another.  We think it will always be this way.  Then one day the world stops.  And life does not go on.

I have been wanting to write on the terrible events of last week but have been at a loss for words.  Yet, while I have been searching for words, life goes on.  Days follow days.   The sun comes up and night follows.  Birds sing, flowers bloom.  But life as we knew it has changed forever.

When I was a child growing up on a farm, life was so much simpler.  The biggest scandal was either a young girl becoming pregnant or someone cheating on a spouse.  The biggest challenge was putting food on the table for the family.  It was not an easy life.  Crops needed enough rain and sunshine to grow.  Everyone participated in the harvest.  We knew what life was.  There were few surprises.  Sure, it could be boring especially for young people who wanted to try those wings.  But there was a sense of security.

When did it begin to change?  When did human life become like a piece of garbage that could be tossed in a large trash ben and left to rot?  Why do we continue to hurt one another?  Does hurting others make us better people?  I don't understand.  I really don't.

The earth seems encased in a bubble of fear.   Fear that someone will get ahead quicker.  Fear that our beliefs are not respected.  Fear that we won't be recognized by those in power above us.  Fear that someone will forcefully take what is ours.  Fear that our children will inherit a world filled with hate and distrust.  It is a sad way to live on this beautiful planet.

Recently I saw a photograph of our planet from space.  It was the most beautiful sight.  It looked so peaceful.  Should other beings out there in the universe see it, I can imagine their excitement.  This looks like the perfect place to live.  Water, land, resources.  Mountains, valleys, rivers.  Deserts, swamps, air.  Such diversity on one sphere.  How wonderful it is to see our planet from space.  To celebrate this place we call home.

It is almost more than I can take in--this place that rotates and gives us seasons, air to breathe, water to drink.  It is a miracle.   At night when the stars shine brightly, I am in awe.  The big dipper tilts toward earth as if it is pouring something out upon all of creation.  What if it poured love on all of us?  What if it poured kindness and caring?  What if it sent waves of peace to all people who call earth home?  What if it was always full of good things to pour over all of us?  What if it never ran out?  I think on those things when I observe the night sky.

Last week peace lost itself in violence.  Yet, love showed itself in abundant ways.  Strangers risking self to care for injured people.  Doctors, nurses, first responders poured all the love and skill they possessed into the lives of those in such desperate need.  A nation--a world watched as folks loved on one another.  Yes, violence had its minute, but fear was met with grace.  Grace lived out as people opened their homes to those who had no place to stay.  So many acts of kindness and caring.

Life goes on.   Days follow days.

New challenges present themselves on a daily basis to those at that place on that day.   Sorrow is the second skin that will never be taken off.  Life has changed for many innocent people.  Why?  And if that question could be answered, would it really make sense to me?  I doubt it.

Yet, even in the darkest moments of life, beauty remains.  Memories keep loved ones alive.  Remembering acts of kindness brings a sense of rightness again.  And slowly we return to life--different but the same.   Flowers bloom, ceremonies honor those we loved,  grace abounds on this beautiful space we call home.

May the days of our lives be filled with all the good we can muster.  May we celebrate each and every day as what it truly is--a gift.  And may we seek peace and understanding.

Take good care of yourself.

What Shall I Say?

What Shall I Say?


Looking at this page is beginning to drive me nuts.  Somewhere are the words that want to appear on this screen.  But, they are  playing hide-and-seek with my fingers.

My fingers are poised on the keys patiently waiting for the words to collect themselves into coherent thoughts.  Yet the longer I sit here, the more elusive they are.  I shall wait them out.  While I am waiting, I will think about other things.

Daffodils--Bright spots of yellow against brown earth and grey sky.  They push their way through the earth on their own time frame and proudly withstand continued cold weather.  They know it is time even if we humans are not so sure.  I am grateful for their presence in my plant beds.  They give me hope.

Hope--I cannot live without it.  Hope that my family and friends are well and happy.  Hope that we can celebrate how much alike we all are instead of highlight our differences.  Where did it all go so wrong? Who began the conversation of hatred?  What has that conversation achieved?  Is there a way to reverse that conversation?  It is my firm belief that we can reverse that conversation, but it will not be easy.  It requires people who value life and wish to see peace.  Who are not threatened by differences.

Differences--Differences require dialogue.   Is it quicker to fight than talk?  Is it more effective to kill and injure than to sit and present all sides of a challenge?  Differences define us.  Yet they also divide us.  It requires time and energy to understand another's point of view.  And perhaps even with the conversation, consensus won't be reached.  Is it possible to agree to disagree?  We use those words often--agree to disagree.  I wonder if anything ever changes when we say that.  Are we simply being civil at the same time we are refusing to move from our beliefs?  I don't know.  I really don't know.

Challenge--Work!  When some belief I have is challenged,  it upsets my little apple cart.  Yet, that is the way we grow.  Without challenges there is no new thought.   Over the years I have learned to love the challenges of life.  They make me think in new ways.  They push me to review my beliefs and to see a situation through another's lens.  It could mean that I will need to replace my long held beliefs with truth.  Letting go of part of ourselves is never easy.  I see it as the opportunity to become more fully human.  Sometimes after challenges, nothing changes.  That is ok.  It means situations have been assessed yet we continue to hold to our way of thinking.  However, there is danger in not being able to see the other point of view.  Welcome challenges.

Daffodils-Hope-Differences-Challenge--What do these have in common?  This is going to be a stretch!
Daffodils bloom among other plants and shrubs.  Sometimes they bloom next to Spring Beauty or Blue Bells.  None of these three flowering plants are alike.  Daffodils stand tall and proud.  They have one bloom on a stem.  Spring Beauty grow low to the ground.  They appear early in the spring and carpet the earth.  They yell that spring has arrived.  Their stems are very small and slender.  Blue Bells appear at almost the same time as Daffodils and Spring Beauty.  Yet they have their own look.  They have multiple large leaves.  The stems have multiple blooms that range in color from pink to lavender to blue.  They are wide plants.  They take up much more space in the garden than the others.

Who is to say which is the best?  Which is the most valuable?  Which is the prettiest?  Each brings their own beauty to this earth.  They announce hope.  Hope that warm weather is almost upon us.  Hope that the cold is leaving.  Hope that many other beautiful plants and shrubs will share their life with us for another season.   Their differences enhance our world.  The different textures, shapes, colors, scents enrich our world.  When we take the time to truly examine them, we see absolute wonder.  Their differences decorate our world.  Which brings me to the challenge part of this mess of writing.  

I have been challenged to think of anything to share today.  Challenged by the acts of violence so prevalent in our world.  Challenged to love those who deliberately hurt others with bombs and guns.  Challenged to find ways to dialogue with others.  To teach children to walk unafraid in a world that is increasingly more dangerous.  Challenged to understand the need to destroy.

Yet, I refuse to believe that only evil exists in this world.  When I see daffodils and feel hope, I know that good and beauty exist.  When I hear people talking about differences, I feel hopeful that agreement can be reached so that others won't die needlessly.  And I am challenged to find my place in making this earth a more peaceful place.  I am challenged to listen more and talk less.  I am challenged to be willing to learn.  And I am challenged to hold on to those beliefs that are simply truth for me.

Well, this rambling is done.  If it makes no sense, I completely understand!

The Dream

The Dream--

Before I begin the writing about the dream,  I must set the stage.  Doing this will help readers understand.

My husband is the best.  He is kind, caring, loving, helpful, and he has no musical ability.  Of course, one doesn't have to feel the beat to be successful.  He does everything else well.  He is a gardner, a cook, a loving father and grandfather.  He never complains when I ask him to help me move the furniture--again.  He thinks of my needs all the time.  When I was diagnosed with Celiac, he read and studied.  He bought various flours and tried them all.  I cannot think of one thing that he lacks--except feeling the beat of a piece of music.   In all of life this is a very small thing.

Actually, it goes beyond feeling the beat.  He has trouble carrying a tune.  He can stay on tune for the first couple of measures then he is off on his own tune.  He would never sing in a choir or sing loud enough for anyone to hear him.  Even so, he loves music.  He has his favorites, and the car radio is always tuned to his favorite oldies but goodies station.

My life has been full of music.  Piano lessons, voice lessons, singing in choirs and small groups, directing musicals to name a few.  Performing and directing is part of my being.  As you can tell, my husband and I approach music from very different places.

Recently, he shared a dream he had.  He said it was more of a nightmare.  As I describe the dream, I am in tears.  It is impossible for me to think about this without laughing until my stomach hurts.  Here it is.

THE DREAM

He and I were being seated at a wedding in a church.  We were taken to the front row which surprised us both.  We took our seats and waited for the ceremony to begin.

After a bit a person came and escorted us to a back room in the church.  My husband was instructed to put on a large rabbit costume.  We were rather surprised at this instruction.  He put it on.  It was a full body suit.  As soon as it was on, he said I left the room with someone.  He said a man came in and got me.  I didn't bother to tell him where I was going.  I simply left him in the rabbit costume.  All alone.

And then a person handed him a hymn book and told him he was going to go out front and direct the singing.  He said he was very scared to do this but decided to follow instructions.  And that is where the dream ended--as he was walking to the front of the church in this rabbit costume with a hymnal in his hand to direct the singing!  This man who cannot carry a tune or feel the beat.  It must have been the most frightening thing for him.  But, for me it is hysterically funny.

Even as I write this, I am laughing.  Why would he dream something like this?  Who knows.  But I do know this.   This dream has brought us both many smiles.

On those days when the sun isn't shinning in my life, I think about that dream.  And I laugh.  I hope it brings a smile to your day, also.