Outdoor Therapy

I took a little walk today and saw those wisteria climbing a tree in front of the abandoned house three doors down from us. I just hate seeing that house so callously neglected but the people who own it have severe health problems and they can't even keep their own house or yard up. 

Farther down the road is where the wild azalea that I look out for every year lives. It is blooming as we speak and it is simply magnificent. There are also Cherokee roses blooming around and through it. 

It's a little past its prime but still highly worth noticing. My own native azalea that I planted years ago has budded up but not opened. It's more of an orange variety. I should plant more. They're just the most beautiful things. 

Some years ago I planted an Ashe magnolia in the camellia bed and it has struggled. A while back, a branch fell and broke off part of it and I wasn't sure it would make it but it's still with us although it is tiny. 

These too are a native species and I had never been aware of them until I visited a local nursery that specializes in native plants and they had a tree-sized one in the parking area. I fell in love and bought one that day. 

When I feared for that one's life I bought another and planted it in front of my swing porch by the native buckeye that I had planted. 

It gets more sun and although the Ashe magnolia is very shade tolerant, it still needs more light than the little one in the camellia bed gets. I am hoping that with the extra light gained from the removal of the Bradford pears, it will put on some growth. The one in front of the swing porch is about to bloom and that is well worth seeing. They, like the grandifloras, put forth a huge white blossom with a lemony, heavenly scent, but their petals are more delicate than the grandiflora's which are thick and waxy. Anyway, I will be checking that one daily because the flowers are so quick to come and then go. A brief beauty for sure. 

After my walk I ate my yesterday's leftovers for lunch and then went outside and kicked bamboo. While I was out there, I took a picture of the carpet of tung blossoms because it is so pretty.

I do love a tree that gives me pleasure when its blooms are on the branches and then again on the ground when they fall. 

After I kicked the bamboo I got back on my knees in the little yard behind the old kitchen and did some more clearing. This is the sort of weeding I like. The invasive plants in there are easier to pull or dig out than crocosmia and border grass and chenille plants. The wild phlox that I brought from the yard of my last house before this one have taken over that space nicely and I am not unhappy about that. I let them grow as thickly as they want to. They manage themselves in a sane and healthy manner. 

The book I've been listening to while I do all these things is a novel called "A Place For Us" and it was written by Fatima Farheen Mirza. It's gotten very good reviews by some serious reviewers and I am enjoying it although the way it jumps from year to year and back again and then forward again from the third person perspective of different members of a family took me some time to get used to. The writing is beautiful and strongly visual but this is not the book for someone wanting action or complex plot lines. It's the story of an Indian Muslim family who live in California and mostly describes how the family tries to maintain its cultural and religious beliefs despite the many challenges of doing so in this new (to the parents, at least) country. The book, due to its length and its voices, is able to grab on to big chunks of what one family's reality and experiences are from the perspective of its members. I'm enjoying it. 

And so it goes. I've pushed myself today a bit because when I woke up I was in a sort of trauma-drama from the dream I'd just had which was so bad. All of the familiar elements were there including the house filled with garbage and filth which I had to clean and there were no garbage bags, my stepfather whom I had to keep yelling at to get out of the room I was in, to leave me alone, to put on some clothes, two Christmas trees that were months overdue on being taken down, a child I was worried about, plants that needed planting, a storm on the ocean that the house was built next to, and that unending feeling of never being able to take care of it all. 
I felt like a completely fucked-up human being for whom there is no hope of ever coming to peace with any of it. 

But it did help to walk, to stay busy, to be on my knees in the dirt, to listen to a good book. 

Here is Maurice reminding me that well-worn overalls are the most comfortable garment of all. 

Lord, my fingernails are dirty. Sign of a well-spent day, in my experience. 

Love...Ms. Moon