A small rant and a modest proposal
When the world wearies and society ceases to satisfy, there is always the garden.
Wearies? Events have steamrolled right over the wearying, blew by demoralizing, and are careening toward debilitating. The miasma that passes for civil discourse settles over the spirit like a heavy dark cloak - light cannot pass in or out; or possibly a black hole, sucking energy, both personal and planetary.
Maybe it’s time to take a cue from another Aumonier quote
There is always music amongst the trees in the garden, but our hearts must be very quiet to hear it.
Maybe it’s time to turn off the radio. Do I really need to hear the litany of largely undeserved self-congratulations coming from politicians and leaders of every stripe?
Maybe it’s time to remove political and news blogs from my Bloglines list.
Maybe it’s time to visit garden forums, where the disagreements concern the advisability of winter sowing tomatoes in Zone 5.
Maybe it’s time to settle down with some garden writing, seed catalogs and my garden journal. A little perspective, please.
When you’re hanging on by a thread, identify that thread and do all you can to strengthen it. Gardening is my thread, consistently providing therapy through years of ups and downs. If this blink in time seems a bit crazier, well, perhaps it is. Gardening serves as a gentle reminder that the wheel turns and seasons come and go, each filled with its own impossibly tender beauty.
So maybe it’s time to go outside and look for tulip noses poking through the damp earth and reaching into the winter mist.