Monday, May 24, 2010

Evening Song


Today has been the opposite of yesterday. It has been quiet and I have rested and I have renewed. I walked, I hung my laundry including the sheets which are now tucked tightly on my bed, waiting for me. I watered my porch plants, I gathered eggs, I took last night's trash and recycle down to the trash depot, I sent Mr. Moon off to Orlando, I worked in the yard.
It has been lovely, this day of rest and renewal.
In the quiet and peace I found treasures in my yard and I consider this one to be my Birth-Day present:

Doesn't look like much, does it?
Well. It is. For me. To me. It is the first bloom of the giant begonia I started from one leaf two summers ago. I was just wondering the other day if it would ever bloom. All the begonias I've ever had have had a bloom- where was the giant begonia's? And here it is. Tiny and unimpressive to the eye. It may grow larger. I do not know. But I am delighted at its appearance today.
Here's another present:

My Easter lily, or should I say, my "Easter" lily? Finally it has opened. I believe that Lily may have given me this lily. I've been watching it every day, patiently waiting for it to bloom. And today it did.

The thing I believe I have enjoyed most today was finally weeding and clearing out the place where I wanted to plant zinnias. I am so ashamed- I should have planted those tiny winged seeds two months ago. I hope they will forgive me and make something of themselves despite my tardiness in giving them to the dirt. The first seeds I ever planted were zinnia seeds that my grandmother had in a glass bottle and although I checked them every day, they never sprouted. I think they might have been many years old, those seeds.
But today I weeded and broke up the earth, the chickens very curious and coming to see what I was doing, and I spread a little composted chicken shit and then laid down leaves for mulch and brushed them aside to make a place to plant the seeds (a dark gash of earth) and I mixed the contents of three different types of zinnias from their packages into one and I so carefully placed them in the shallow indented row I made with my forefinger. Then I patted the dirt back over them and have set the sprinkler on and am hoping for the best. Summer will be with us for quite awhile and zinnias are summer plants and so I have hope.
I do.

I have been gardening for over thirty years and yet strangely, I feel like a novice; every year a new adventure, a different experiment in how to grow flowers and food. Isn't that odd? You would think I would know how to do it, what to do, and the best way to do it, wouldn't you? And yet, no.

There are so many different factors every year. The lateness of winter or the early arrival of spring. The bugs we have one year are different than the ones we have other years. So are the fungi and other plant diseases. One year the cucumbers may thrive while another they hardly do a thing. My peas this year have been a vast disappointment and the collards bolted so early, despite spring's long, unusual coolness. Why? I do not know. Half my garden right now is filled with bolted things- lettuces and the collards, mustards and even the radishes. I need to clear it out. And I will. It's just hard to let it go, for some reason. Hard to be ruthless with something still green, even if it's gone bitter and to seed.

But every year I hope to learn something new. Every year we hope to improve the dirt with composted shit and leaves for mulch. Every year is a new beginning. A new lesson. A brand, spanking new experience.

Sort of like raising children- just because you know how to raise one, doesn't mean shit when it comes to the next.

Believe me.

When I finished the last bit of the zinnia row and patted it like I'd pat a baby's bottom and turned on the sprinkler, I walked around with my camera for a bit.
Here are some different hydrangea, their blooms just beginning to turn color:

There are blue and pink and purple hydrangea, already showing like pieces of the sky in the different hours of the day in Lloyd, but mine are shaded and so are slow in coming. Shade makes many blossoms shy but what are you going to do? Cut down the oak trees? I don't think so.

Here's another. It's a fancier version. The tiny white blossoms dance around the inner blue ones. I'll show you what it looks like in a week or two. It will be different.

My chickens continue to delight and amaze me. Every day. They line up to be let out in the mornings and spend their day either in busy scratching or in rest under bushes or a shed. Jessie and I went out today and we didn't see them but when we went into the front yard, there they were, rushing us to see what we might bring them. They rarely go into the front yard so we were surprised to see them. We lured them back to their coop where Jessie had taken the rinds of the watermelon and cantaloupe and strawberry tops I'd cut up earlier. And Hank- that watermelon is TASTY! Elvis made his throat call after tasting the bounty to call the hens to treats. I never get tired of watching them, these social, intelligent creatures who give me such pretty eggs every day.

Miss Bob of whom I rarely speak. She is a quiet hen and just goes about her day but she is a pretty thing.

Daffodil and Luna The Cat, both wishing I would fill up the bowl with cat food. I had no idea that chickens and cats could co-exist so peacefully. Who knew? Not me. But now I do.

And now it's getting dark and those chickens have tucked themselves up into bed and I need to go out and shut their door against predators and turn off the sprinklers. I am filthy dirty and need a shower. There's an Amy's pizza in the freezer I am going to make for my supper. Why not? No one here but me. I'll cook some peppers and garlic and onions and chop up some tomatoes to put on it before I put it into the oven. It will be GOURMET frozen pizza.
I might watch some TV as I eat it.
I will not be watching the last episode of "24" which even my beloved NPR has been talking about today. I've never watched one minute of that show and so what would be the point? A show where they torture people? Oh, maybe there is more to it than that but I'm pretty sure it's not for me.

The crickets are singing and a distant dog is barking. Beside that, it is quiet.

Thirty-two years ago right now my baby May was just over twelve hours old. She was fussy that night. I remember. I stayed up with her and sang her songs and nursed her. I remember that well. I looked into her eyes and wondered who this soul was whom I had just given birth to. I wonder if the descendants of the crickets I hear now are the same ones who sang that night. They must be.

I had made a dinner the night she was born of peas and potatoes from our garden and chicken baked in the oven with barbeque sauce. I remember that.
There are potatoes in my garden right now and a few peas. A few.

I am alone with these memories and the knowing that I have had a good and peaceful day, the knowing that after all of these years I don't know squat about gardening and yet, was trusted with the lives of four children.

Amazing.

Grace.

16 comments:

  1. Great photos. I had snap beans, new potatoes and "simlin" squash from the garden tonight along with an insalata caprese made with fresh basil. The zinnia seeds have sprouted here. I like your evening song.

    ReplyDelete
  2. What a wonderful, wonderful day. Love how you gourmet'd up the frozen pizza. I am a sucker for grey cats so I must see more of him (her?). Love your hydrangeas and lilies.
    Have a peaceful evening rest.

    ReplyDelete
  3. I had no idea that hydrangeas blooming looked like that; they are one of my favorite flowers, as are lilies of any kind (but mostly Calla lilies; we cut some out of my friend's front yard the morning of her funeral and placed them on the top of her casket-never have I seen such beauty and hopefulness in the midst of something so tragic). I am glad you had a peaceful day; I think you needed it.

    ReplyDelete
  4. Beautiful post. So true. I really liked how you said that about gardening. So true. And hurray for getting your zinnia's in. It's not too late. Great spot there. Did you plant any sunflower seeds yet?
    They'd look good there too.
    I put my garden in Memorial Day weekend.
    Love how you described the hydrangea and the pics were divine.
    And of course the memories of baby May, the crickets, the garden meal.
    Let's see Mr Moon's tomato plants. They must be big!
    Night night Mary.
    Glad you had such a peaceful day.

    ReplyDelete
  5. I get so lost in your posts that by the time I get to the end I forget to share my reactions from the beginning. I just went to turn off my plant lights and saw my little wild pony begonia, and remembered your begonia and had to come back and say WOW. I have never been able to grow something from a leaf cutting. I've only tried once, but still. I find this sort of propagation very advanced and impressive and I too think it's wonderous that you grew that whole plant, which is now flowering, from a piece of leaf! Wow wow wow.

    ReplyDelete
  6. All of your plants are such a deep, healthy green. I know they are being well cared for. Maybe all the bolting is a blessing of seeds? I've taken to that philosophy.

    From a couple of parsley plants gone to seed, I now have parsley growing all around the yard. I read that the swallowtail butterflies like it and that roses like it as a companion plant. My little arugula patch bolted, so I took some of the flowers inside (there are wonderful veins on those small flowers) and let the rest go to seed so I can plant arugula again.

    Thanks for the even song of a walk through your garden. I'll bet those zinnias will do very well in that location.

    x0
    N2

    ReplyDelete
  7. Oh, your day sounded heavenly.

    How funny! I usually make my frozen pizzas gourmet too.

    Happy Birthday to you and May! May you both be blessed.

    ReplyDelete
  8. What a beautiful end of day post.

    And I'm with you -- I've never seen an episode of 24 and find descriptions of it distasteful, to say the least. I also read an horrific article about the creator of it years ago (The New Yorker?) that really turned me off.

    ReplyDelete
  9. This was a most perfect post about a perfectly wonderful day. Thank you!

    ReplyDelete
  10. what Bethany said. Such lush words and photos, I get lost in the pictures and the images you paint with your words. There is a mystery to gardening, fate and luck and being at the mercy of forces greater than us. I've been growing things forever too, and also feel I don't know a thing. I wonder how I'd survive if there weren't grocery stores as a fall back plan. But it sure is amazing when something grows, and startling how quickly plants fight to make their own babies and carry on. I planted so many old seeds this Spring that it's like a science experiment to see which I can coax to life. I blame both you and Bethany for this burst of hopeful planting. Green bananas, old flower seeds: I'm hopeful too. Thanks for sharing so much. Have a great day in your amazing yard.

    Oh ps the cutest video of chickens is at the amazing Vicki Lane's site, hope you have time to click on it and smile. It fits right in.
    http://vickilanemysteries.blogspot.com/2010/05/4-mamas-3-babies.html

    ReplyDelete
  11. That does sounds like a wonderful day! I'm looking forward to days like that in a couple of years when I retire. Love the cat's name too. I have some blogger friends with a cat named Luna and they have a blog dedicated just to her!

    ReplyDelete
  12. the way the fire of light catches the strength of a wise tree...right there, your last photo...

    this is how your voice rings out.
    it's all here. wisdom wears humility. doubt subsides to trust. impossible wakes to possibilities. and through it all, hope resounds, filling all our empty bowls.

    ReplyDelete
  13. Daffodil the cat is cute. I imagine chickens and cats get along because chickens are too damn big to tackle properly. Puppini would try though, and she is tiny, but she has a mighty spirit.

    I love you. Have a great day in Lloyd.

    By the way, Daddums said he agreed with everything you said in your post about the Bible and your womb. Some men are decent, and you and I are lucky to know some of them.

    SB

    ReplyDelete
  14. Syd- Your dinner sounds perfect.

    Michele R- That cat. I don't even know how old she is. Twelve or thirteen maybe? And she lives outside and she DROOLS to the point of ridiculousness. She always has.

    deb- It was right up there, I'll tell you.

    Kori- I did need it.
    And I love the canna lilies too.

    Bethany- I can't plant sunflowers! I need all the sunny space I have for vegetables and they would block the sun on the garden! Isn't that sad?
    Thanks for your words of encouragement. And the leaf cutting propagation? That simply took a lot of time and patience and keeping the dirt moist.

    N2- Blessing of the seeds. I love that.

    Angie- Well, I am blessed with May, I will tell you that.

    Elizabeth- Really. Torture? Why?

    Juicie- You are welcome!

    Mel- What a darling video! And I need to check out that site more closely. Thanks! And good luck with all your plants too.

    Lois- I will NEVER name a blog after my Luna. It would be the most boring blog in the world.

    rebecca- Your words always stun me. Thank-you.

    Stephanie- I was hungry. SOMEONE had to cook...

    Ms. Bastard-Beloved- No. Daffodil is the chicken. And I think that you're right- the cat is intimidated by the chickens.
    Your daddums is awesome. So are you.

    ReplyDelete
  15. The cooking - it does my head in. I don't cook for about a month after giving birth. I am newly grateful for my new man.

    ReplyDelete

Tell me, sweeties. Tell me what you think.