Tag: Gardeners

Categories
Life

Sacred Sorrow

I was on my knees, in the garden. If she was a person, we would have been forehead to forehead, and I would be whispering my sorry into her skin.

But she was not a person.

She was a plant.

One that was alive before I left for twelve days of holidaying, and dry as a crisp when I arrived home.

I could have cried. I’d planted her and one other, just before Christmas, forgetting that we’d be going away and there’d be no one home to water them. I thought about them often while we were gone, just hoping. They both died. It was too long in such dry hot conditions.

In the moment I sat with her whispering ‘sorry’, I felt her. It was a sacred sorrow in the air, beautiful and sad, slow and soothing, one that only a few years ago I wouldn’t have been able to feel.

There are many who would laugh at me for loving, connecting and understanding nature as deeply as I do. To me, everything is alive, and I try to treat all the living beings in my care with as much love as I would a human.

It is my way, to love those who cannot speak for themselves.

It is a beautiful life of the deepest connection.

It is pure. And it is right, for me.

Photo by Irina Iriser on Pexels.com
Categories
Life

Truth

I am drinking night-time tea, writing, as if to write to a lover of feelings yet to be spoken.

I’ve been in the garden today. I sometimes wish my Nan was still alive so I could ask her: ‘Is this what it felt like for you?’ She was a big gardener. I thought it must have been because she liked gardens.

I want to ask her if she, too, felt the whisper of the earth and was afraid to tell us. I want to ask her if delicate roots intrigued her, if rose buds felt like dear, sweet children.

Such beautiful voices have been suppressed. Beautiful voices of truth and earthly wisdom, voices of absolute love and dear, dear compassion.

You will not silence me, fearful past.

I will speak of this beauty.

I will shout it, and the world will know its truth.

Photo by u0415u043bu0435u043du0430 u041au0443u0437u0438u0447u043au0438u043du0430 on Pexels.com
Categories
Peaches In The Darling Sun

Little Koala Arms

Such adorable little roots.

And no one is more surprised than I am that my plant journey has taken me this way. It was just the way of the wind and so I flew there, in a great big gust of life, and suddenly I’d begun propagating succulents.

What you do is: you take a leaf from the plant and you let it sit in the world to do nothing for a while. The idea is that the wound (where the leaf tore from the plant) dries out and, when it does, you place the leaf on a bed of soil and lightly mist over the coming weeks. That’s when it happens. That’s when the teeny tiny roots appear.

Such adorable little roots.

My little darlings have begun to dig their arms so deep into the soil that, when tugged, they come away with an arm full of soil, clinging like little Koala arms to the soil below.

They remind me of my baby girl. The way she clings to me as I wander about the house, knowing I am her only life line, the one she needs to feed her and grow her perfectly into this big old world.

My succulent babies are the same. They cling to their Mother (Mother Nature) and she breathes them to life as they hold her.

The whole act is a vulnerable one.

Such adorable little roots.

Such achingly tender little Koala arms.

Photo by PrathSnap on Pexels.com
Day 28: Plant Mum forever.