Trilliums

The Trilliums
have risen out of the leaves of last fall
delicate little beauties
often unseen in the wild
but thriving in my little garden
...this day
I needed their reminder
of the trinity
comfort given me
 from wee plants
little corms that will soon bloom
May I

Welcome

I am a solitary gardener
probably because I don't fit in with the real gardeners
..the knowers of such things as soil,light,genus, etc.
I am a wench of feeling...full of lust for my garden...it is a love affair
We speak to each other not having language of words
we share wind, rain ,sunlight, earth
I give tending and structures
The garden opens
It is really not a wild place
for it has been planted here by me....rescued from commerce...
But I give it the freedom and wildness that I can
and the animals and birds come to the party share in the music of creation
I welcome all
Once I even had a garden club come by...ha
remember I told you they went home with my chocolate mint..hee hee
that they loved the wildness of my yard...something they could (they meant..wouldn't) do.
 But wenches never look around for approval
they lust for life in the moment
 finding what makes them feel alive
and for me it is the garden and all my wards
 I have tried to make friends with others near me who have beautiful gardens
 but it never gelled somehow.....sad really
Sometimes even a wench needs someone of her own kind
 to share amazement with or the joy of beauty
But the great spirit has given me you
sharers of joy
 lovers of all things in nature
 praise

In the morning light
I saw a hawk take a bird
life and death revealed

wild,like me

 peony fingers and pachysandra

 bluebells and wild Hyacynth

 bloodroot and lungwort

        my new garden troll with owl!                                      swelling horsechestnut buds on a raining day

Early this morning I took a much needed walk into the garden
like a transfusion of joy this stroll
Overhead, birds busy flitting about and singing..it's that time of year
the Life Goes On time of year
give thanks I say to myself again
I can't change the world, but I can tend a garden
It has rained for two days now and the garden soil is very wet
I haven't had time, or the weather has been too cold for me to rake out debris
It maybe too late to clear certain areas now without breaking my precious woodlands
What did I just say? I heard myself.....and I laugh....they are woodlands...nothing ever gets cleared in the woods....let it be..let it decay....wabi sabi
The smell of the wet earth is full of lust........
One of my other rescues..from the same site as the bloodroot, is the wild hyacynth
We dug it up not knowing what it was and we were pleasantly surprised to find out what we had rescued
The ratty looking leaves gave way to little stems that brought forth tiny purple flowers with yellow tips
but it was the smell that gave it away...pure heavenly lilac like fragrance
When I found it in my wildflower book it said....found occasionally throughout Illinois..habitats include:black soil prairie,moist savannas,moist open woodlands along streams,found in high quality habitats..whether prairie or woodland. 
Oh how incredibly sad that the habitat was destroyed.....forgive us for what we humans do to you ,both animal and plant......we sin against nature and she keeps on ..forgive
But I have a few.....I could never leave this house..this garden
Do you like my new gnome..my troll and his owl ?
My husband frowned when he saw it. What can I say.....I must be who I am

Red Bird

It's not the promised 60 degrees outside
but that is a good thing, I am stuck inside waiting
I hate waiting,feel it a waste of time
waiting for a repairman
But I am salved by the fact that it is sunless outside and a bit cold
 my tending to the garden should be starting now... So many interruptions lately
I'm itching for that warm day when I can dive into the quiet meditative work
 of sacredness of tending to
I love to bear witness to awakening
especially in myself
The garden does that...
one breath at a time
one green leaf at a time
one opening bud at a time
I need restorative energy right now Drained of my reserves...
 from the past two weeks of nurturing others
God give me a quiet day of earth in my hands
But wait I must do today ...and accept it
ah...accept
 the secret of living in joy.
..accepting what is as the gift that it is
If I had not been waiting by the window for the man to arrive
I would have missed the mating pair of cardinals in the White oak tree
scouting out the honeysuckle bush for their spring nest
They have nested there for the past 3 Springs
an honor greater than any given by humans
Have you ever listened to the song of a male cardinal?
 pure joy notes
He's in love and she is too
and together they bring forth a new generation of their kind
...sort of like the joy I've felt these past weeks
a new generation of my kind running through the house
ah..thoughts of gratitude flow through me
all because I'm waiting
I guess I will give up the hating of this waiting
and instead see the gift that it has become

Red bird on white oak
honeysuckle branches wait
sharing of new life

***

My Little Ones

My little tulips are back safe in Laguna Beach
little miss still running a fever....oh dear what a week it was
But this morning I went outside and prayed for all of it...
a prayer of thanks for all that God has given me the privilege to have in my life
especially them my little grandchildren...the flowers of my life's garden
And as I was communing with the Great One
I looked down to see that the Blood root has risen out of the ground and in some places
it has bloomed
Some day I will show a picture of what it looks like now
the place where I rescued them from
It will make you cry....if you love natives
When we first stumbled upon them....we didn't know what they were
but the 100x100 ft spot that they filled was stunning in the spring light
hundreds of delicate white flowers rising out of dead oak leaves
they stood quite tall, maybe 10 inches..really
We went back to our car and got out our spade and bucket (we always keep one in the car for such rescues)
we saved what we could before we were chased away
The developer didn't care......he paved it all
Oh such sadness I feel remembering it....all the woodlands that are gone forever
I have since heard of a group called the Wild Ones...they go on plant rescues when development
dooms these plants....
My little Blood roots...safe in my garden
My little Bloodroots safe in Laguna Beach California
Praise be to God

Haven't visited the garden this past week
haven't visited my blogger friends either
too much grandma stuff going on here
sick kids all over the place woe..I have forgotten how hard it is
 no time for nurturing of the self or indulging the senses
 in the simplest things such as breezes or sunshine or peonies poking through the earth
only time for hot little bodies sitting next to me
wanting comfort
But I did glance out the window and see these viburnum buds swelling
Whether I am present or not
the garden needs no witness or audience
 it goes about its business of surviving and living
it serves only one Master
 blessings and joy
..be back  soon

I bought these pink tulips at the end of season
then forgot about them in the garage...
so in hurry one late fall day
...a day that was very cold and damp
I hurriedly stuck them into the ground
then watched as the landscapers raked the heck out of them
They'll never come back , I said to my husband
He said I would just have to wait and see
and this morning I saw......they yielded to the call of the sun
while in the warmed earth
Don't you just love Spring with all it's seeming miracles
resurrections
I look forward to seeing pink
I have survived pink.

rue the day

A quick dash out to the garden this morning
before the the little miss and little master rolled out of bed
while their mom and papa were eating breakfast.
I slipped away to the stillness of a spring morning
A quick look about I saw life stirring everywhere
These pictured above are wild flowers I rescued from a building site
I think they are some kind of meadow rue...beautiful delicate little white flowers
with leaves a fine as lace
I love woodland wildflowers the best
Spring is the best time of year for this
the ephemerals...ah!!
soon they will be waking up and the cycle will begin in earnest
another year of the garden
But for now it is the fresh smell of wind in my face that has passed over winter's debris
and the swelling buds on the horse chestnut tree above me
 that  are opening my heart
opening it to living this day
joy

I like to think of myself as a wabi sabi wench ,too
tranquil simplicity...imperfect, natural, rustic
and
treasuring the passage of time
loving things that evoke
-a lonely sense of impermanence
-patinas of age
-the cycle of life and death

When I walk in the garden through the seasons
I witness it all.....it keeps me centered
calms my weary wantings at times
whispers that this is life
nothing to fear....renewal comes
in some form or another....and joy
that's what being a wabi sabi garden wench means to me

"We do love things that bear the mark of grime,
soot, and weather,and we love colors and sheen
that call to mind the past that made them.
                                      -Tanizaki Junichiro

.......Yes, I do.

awake awake
you sleepy heads
get up get up
rise out of flower beds



They don't last long
but I have longed for them
oh the joy these little ones bring

So much work to be done
cutting away the old and dried and dead
but not too fast
Mr. and Mrs. Robin
and Mr. Starling
were spotted pulling up and carrying off
the makings for their nests
Oh to hear peeping again
....and
to watch out for
and guard the garden from Mr. Hawk!

It is like finding a diamond
Its beauty so dazzling
in the light of a spring day

...and as cherished
maybe more

I looked down and behold
another assemblage of nature:
The survivors,
the cast offs,
the fallen,
debris.
But for me today, a moment
to stop and reflect
that the journey through winter
is coming to an end
a page turning

The good Lord has made the sky blue to us.
So blue it dazzles me today
So blue it lifts my spirits
a bandage on my weariness

I sit in the cool air on the deck
looking over the yet to be awakened garden
imagining the joy I will feel when warm breezes
pass over me this summer

But now,I need to put my hands in dirt and pray
It is where I feel closest to God
The soil is still mostly frozen so
where will I go to unburden my sorrow
for Japan?
thousands washing up on the shore

The blue sky

nourishment

You are a good hider
but I am an expert looker
it's not your fault
But before you scampered away
I offered a prayer of thanksgiving for your presence
a shaft of light in my conscious mind
weighed down lately by sadness
for all the suffering in Japan


discovered in twigs
rabbit looks for nourishment
eyes are filled with joy

Near the Stone

I saw the choir rising
from the warmed earth
and I joined in singing
Hallelujah!

survival report

Oh dear
fur pellets
Now who coughed these up?
Not what I was looking for today in the
awakening garden
But I guess it is fitting
The garden at this time of year
is the ugly duckling
Reports of survival are just about due
to be revealed
I made it
thanks to the birds, the squirrels
beautiful tree branches
revealing their form,
pine trees,a holy bit of green throughout the cold and snow
We all are handing in our reports of survival...
buds everywhere on the trees,green breaking through the earth
in every corner of the garden!
I saw the possum and raccoons this past week
sneaking around the deck after dark
the rabbits are out this morning looking around
like I am
It is cloudy,the sky.. that awful color of nothingness white
a gentle mist is covering everything
But the weatherman said it might be 50 today
It will warm the earth a bit more
and me too
I have survived the void of winter
Already I am buying things to replace
what has decayed,broken or returned to the earth
as I wish it to
I bought new iron deck planters...
a new Buddha
heavenly blue morning glory seeds
a new little fairy riding a snail to tuck in behind the hostas
I love surprises in the garden
and I am dreaming and planning of a raised flowerbed
somewhere in the open what is now lawn area
my husband will not approve....you don't need more he will say
But he is not a garden wench

Salvaged from Salvation Army

you were seen in wood
now a forgotten artist
part of my garden

Sunday thought

And in my garden
the Lion lays down
with the lamb

And I forgot to tell you about St. Francis
 tending to the wards at ground level
-those who are often despised
It is fitting that he stands
in water isn't it?
all need water
all need compassion
I walk past him
and bend
nodding
I know the warmth of such blessing

Old friends

I am drawn to the
sitting
Buddha
in the garden
a reminder to stop
be silent
listen
forget
the work
just be still
and let the garden
open
before me

and then there is
the figure of the
standing Chinese
warrior near the rose
who stands guard
at least I think he does
I stop by him too
and take in the sense
of my responsibility
to all within my charge
in this Open Bar of Joy

and I continue past
the iron witch on her broom
a bit of fancy for me
and mischief
always there courtesy
of the many wards that
grace my trees

And then I quietly
look upon drift wood carved
in the image of the Madonna
and Child
An arrow of awe strikes my heart
for the unknown artist who made
this image, only to have me buy
it at the Salvation Army store
irony of irony

And tucked in here and there
is more fancy and fun
and old things that I cannot part with
tucked in behind a hosta or two
to become one day part of the garden itself

Things in the garden come and go
ying and yang
rust and crumble
But I like it like that
Joy!

My Birdwatcher

When Boo was a baby, a wee 2 week old baby, with no mama
I used to take him out in the garden to get his Vitamin D
and to let him walk around the grass and such to explore
Once he actually found a toad....well, the toad found him
to be truthful
When Boo was this little, my oldest Kitty, Webster was dying from kidney failure.
I took him outside too, his only time out in the garden, right before he died,
he sat in the sunshine.
I almost saw in his eyes..."Why did you never let me come out here before?"

I'm going to put his ashes in the garden this year,near my Buddha
so he can be outside all the time
There is danger outside for kitties......especially from people
So Boo has to stay inside too now
He loves to watch the birds and the squirrels..those nutty squirrels
that come up to the window to tease him
Boo will have to watch me in the garden from the window too
I never want him to get a taste of how glorious a garden can be
I love him too much

The garden brings out my gypsy

Ah, lots of work ahead,
isn't it exciting?
I saw green grass yesterday near the retreating ice

It's how I feel inside....green and living
Lots of debris to remove, things to cut back
winter shelter no longer needed
exposure is what we need..soon soon
letting the new growth of what is perennial break forth and grow
and the bulbs..those little gems in a fist...miracles really
like me....once a little bulb
now a grown gardener
Not a Latin name kind of garden
But the kind of gardener that I am as a person
free, wild,beautiful,and joyful
following my instincts, like the wards of my garden ( oh that Harry Hawk)
and each and every flower ,tree and bush that is in my garden
grow and be beautiful..enjoy the rain, the wind ,the sun
This is your life... and mine
Joy

winter's last assemblage

Assemblage:
A form of art involving the assembly and arrangement
of unrelated objects, parts, and materials in a kind of sculptural collage.

-Webster's New World Dictionary


This happens all the time in the garden...art.
You only have to look for it.
Things such as light, branches, twigs, footprints, flowers, leaf texture,
rocks, fallen feathers, bark, water... and did I say light?
come together at different times and form
an assemblage of beauty and mystery and delight
in the garden.
Sometimes it happens around things you have added to the garden
for structure or form
but most times it's simply the elements at work
busy creating unintended still lifes
Blessed is the gardener,or wench, who walks
the hallowed ground of a garden with the eye
open for beauty
for beauty is the language
of the holy
and it brings the being
joy

ice drops

I know my little pocket camera and inexperience cannot capture
the awe I felt looking at the white oak branches that were
holding, suspended- in- ice, drops of water. It was so beautiful,magical
these ornaments of a warming day.
I feel like I am thawing,too.
Each morning I walk in the garden,
and though this time of year it is its ugliest,
I find beauty in the beast.
Soon the work will begin
and I will be filled with joy and purpose
helping to reveal the new life
just below
 the debris and leaves of the season of autumn,
cleaning up and repairing the
unintended damage of the winter
storms
Survival....uncovered in both of us

Hearts

My heart hung all winter long
held up by the generous arms of the white oak
its many branches striking quite a silhouette
against an all too often bleak sky,but
this metal heart was right there with me
her tinkling glass beads and brass bells cheering me
as they were moved by the cold north wind,
even during the blizzard she held on (as did I)
and today she dazzles me with her beauty,
reflecting the sun's rays under the heartache blue sky
It is coming, I can feel it,taste it,hear it
Spring is sending out her arrival song
I hear it in the icicles dripping
feel it in the angle of the sun's rays on my face
taste it in the warming air that ascends
up my being awakening a primal memory
of what this is......life force
changing its garments
Joy!

Rocks

I have had a love affair with rocks for as long as I can remember.
When I was a kid I gathered them all the time while
on my daily journeys and while on picnics with my parents.
How ununderstanding my parents were about hauling them home.
Once the bottom drawer of my dresser gave way under the weight of my precious rocks.
Nothing has changed. I still love and collect rocks.
The garden is full of them.
They create habitat for my wards of the lower realm...bugs
bugs bring birds and toads
it magic I tell you
all so connected this garden
Joy

looking for beauty

Not much beauty in the garden
this morning
plants still asleep
Little bits of lily green
dared to stick their heads up
nipped by snow and cold
they ceased their enthusiasm

But I tarried onward looking
and I ceased my search
for before me a still life laid
on the flagstone path
Between the spaces
white sleety ice balls catching
and holding scattered black sunflower seeds
a dash of fallen red catkins
making it complete
a feeling of zen in the garden
on this winter day