I worked in a different garden this week. Three hours of gardening, with other people. My work people. My garden world and my work world very really meet so it was an interesting experience to be doing something that I love with others. We were volunteering, tidying a space, weeding, laying bark chips. Wheelbarrows and buckets. A lemonade drink at tea time. It was a garden very different from mine. More shrubs than plants with very few flowers. I don’t remember noticing bees. There was a decision to be made about foxgloves, was it a weed? Turns out it was in this landscape so off with it’s head. It felt weird to know something that is cherished in my garden space was not welcome in another. It was also interesting to watch how we worked together, mostly in quiet aside from directions given as to what to do. Each of us wandered off to corners to work with the occasional word spoken but for the most part it felt like we were lost in our own thoughts. Our own worlds. Our own reasons for volunteering. It was a quiet harmony that was unifying. It made me realise that gardens are unique to us all as to is the reasons why we garden and how we work in a garden. It was a treasured moment, this garden working bee, to be repeated no doubt but I am sure it will be different.
“What a thing. What a year.
Last breaths of it, a chance to review our lives and ponder…. A moment to lean into the grounding that can be found at this point of the circle, despite how different the seasons feel this year. In ancient times, rituals were held at this time to cleanse out the old energy and make space for the new. A dance between light and darkness, life and death. A chance to seek harmony, to clear space, to make room for the new,……. I realise, as the day slips away, how much more deeply I have felt the shift this year and wonder which of all the things I should hang that upon.”
kerri ni dochartaigh ‘Cacaphone of bone’
I am busy taking photos of the garden. Recording for winter when I have time to reflect and note what the garden was this season. I can already see that what is growing is building on what it was the year before. Different yet the same. This year it feels like the garden and myself are sinking further into each other, and not for the first time I feel it mirrors my feelings. Facebook informs me the Rata was in full flower six years ago. It is only just now starting to show signs of flowering, confirming the thought that it has been a slow moving spring. The garden over the years, when I do look back at old photos is a space which is becoming less about what is suppose to be , order, lines, plans and becoming something more natural, fluid, itself. I feel the same. It becomes more of an escape, a secret space. A friend visits and comments on how it is hidden from the neighbours. I immediate comment on how it is because I have let it go and list a number of corrections I should make. As I hear myself prattling on unnecessary I tell myself in my head I don’t need to explain myself, I should be celebrating it for the secret space that it is.
blissful thoughts from the week that was..
the deliciousness of gardening after dinner. It was light until after 9pm which just seem to add to the garden moment. It felt wonderful to be in the garden until 8.30, to return inside and pick up a book to read.
The sound and smell of rain. I feel like I don’t need to write more than that short sentence. You know what I mean.
Dogs in garden lying in the sun, fully stretched out, no doubt overheating but loving every minute.
The simple joy of a new to me plant flowering and then learning how you will use it in the garden in the future.
Tomatoes growing. Cucumbers growing. Nasturim growing. All in pots outside in full sun. I know they will take longer to fruit and bloom but I am delighting in the tangled mess that is starting to be created. Also current and raspberries starting to colour.
I do love hearing your thoughts and garden plans so do leave comments. It is always nice to chat.
Oh I love the blissful thoughts! Dogs outstretched and gardening into the evening. Blissful indeed!
I adore late day gardening. My partner says he is envious at my delight in pottering, and I must remind myself not to carry on with deadheading after a certain light level. Our child sprinkle sowed a seed mix in her 3sqm area that was meant for the entire garden. Some success and much patience required but a certain random in my fave soft yellow that remains unidentified popped up as a charming surprise.
Our neighbourhood is full of new subdivision dullness. The sad repetition of the most common natives combined with little attempt at individuality does my head in. Makes me hold on to the high compliment gave, saying our garden was the only sanctuary in the block. Which we intended, for ourselves and the insect population.