Dragonfly

I love the other living creatures God made who share my garden!  This amazing dragonfly, butterflies who have found their host plants in the dill of my herb garden or milkweed along the path, ladybugs who help control other insects, the earthworms in our compost, birds that sing a hallelujah chorus to us every morning., even the naughty squirrels that raid the bird feeder.  Each has its own lesson to teach, its own joy to share.  May I have eyes that see, ears that ear, and a heart tuned to sing God’s grace!

“Field and forest, vale and mountain, flowery meadow, flashing sea, Singing bird and flowing fountain call us to rejoice in Thee.”   ~ from Henry Van Dyke’s poem set to Beethoven’s “Ode to Joy.”

Of Friends and Ferns

Of the many plants we tend in our garden, this fern has been around the longest.  In fact, it is the only plant that has lived with us in a number of homes and gardens of all kinds and in different places.  When we lived in an old Victorian house in the town both Joe and I grew up in, I found this plant in a garage sale.  That was in 1981!  So for over 30 years now, this fern has endured!  In the 1980′s, it moved with us twice.  When our family moved to California, then within a year to Indonesia, I left it in my sister’s care. When we came back to the U.S. in 1992, she gave it back to me!  It has endured drought, hurricane force winds, various divisions and repotting.  What stories have surrounded these fronds that keep on growing and greening!  I guess you could call it a faithful fern. It lasts. It keeps on keeping on!

That is why it reminds me of the people in my life I am blessed to call friend, those who through many years and over distances of many miles and circumstance are still part of my life,  outlasting storms and dry spells.  I am grateful for fern and friends and the faithfulness of God in His provision and sustaining of that which keeps plants and relationships alive, enduring, and growing.

Farewell, Tree

On the edge of our church’s prayer garden, a massive cedar tree stood like a guardian of the corner for many many years.  Not as beautiful as the spreading arms of the oak tree nearby, yet its stature and twisted, pitted trunk, spoke story to all who stood beneath it.  Because it was diseased and damaged, there had been concern about the damage it would do if it came down on its own, creating danger for the many children and adults passing underneath daily.  The time came three weeks ago as a storm with high winds was forecast when a decision was made to fell the tree – a wise decision, but a sad one.  Here are photos of the fallen giant and a small poem in memory of a very large friend.

Farewell, Tree

ancient evergreen groans

massive gnarled trunk splits

thundering as it falls

hiding place sundered

red bird sits on broken branch

friends gather

breathing the scent of cedar

“Roses, Late Summer”

If I had another life I would want to spend it all on some unstinting happiness. I would be a fox, or a tree full of waving branches. I wouldn’t mind being a rose in a field full of roses. Fear has not yet occurred to them, nor ambition. Reason they have not yet thought of. Neither do they ask how long they must be roses, and then what. Or any other foolish question. -Mary Oliver, excerpted from “Roses, Late Summer”

I admire Mary Oliver’s poetry.  These lines, as do so many of hers, tug at my heart with an “oh, yes.”

I read between her lines that for me are describing the desire to be rid of the prickling, thorny, uncomfortable, and sometimes unnecessary things on which we spend ourselves. Oliver chooses a fox, a rose, and a tree – all created by God and lovely, although we are never told those things were created in God’s image.  Only man, with all his questions and fears, is said to be made like Him and for being with Him, not just His creation.  Only we have reason and relationship.  I revel in this life in relationship with my Creator and the family He has given me. I know who answers my foolish questions and calms my fears. I am practicing happiness as I celebrate this moment.  I think Mary Oliver likes what lies between her lines when I read them.

Waiting…

“To wait with openness and trust is an enormously radical attitude toward life. It is choosing to hope that something is happening for us that is far beyond our own imaginings. It is giving up control over our future and letting God define our life.” Henri Nouwen

My garden calls me to remember much about waiting with openness and trust – to choose hope.  All around me are signs of beginnings and growth.  Not all happen when I predict.  Many don’t develop on the same time-table as previously experienced.  But if I am attentive, the astonishing beauty and meaning is indeed beyond my own imagining.

Rosemary for Remembrance

Yesterday I planted Pineapple Sage,  Bee Balm, Stevia, and  Lime Balm as well as Genovese Basil. Most years we have close to a dozen varieties of basil alone, and we have mounds of oregano and mint. Cilantro and dill are beginning to bolt to flower since we have had such warm weather.  Of all the herbs, I love rosemary best for its symbolism of faithfulness and remembrance. Whether I brush against it in the garden or bruise it before sprinkling over something roasting on the grill, the pungent fragrance calls me to remember God’s faithfulness.

Easter Joy

Our granddaughters are a joy for many reasons.  One of those reasons is the way they express their own joy.  On Saturday, long before we had fun coloring Easter eggs, and certainly before Easter morning with the excitement of baskets and the donning of frothy pink dresses, Maddie took the sidewalk chalk out to decorate our front walk.  She worked on several Easter egg drawings, but at the beginning of the sidewalk, she drew the pink cross you see in this photograph.  If you look very closely, you can see at the top what she thinks the cross means.  “Jesus Loves You.”