A Peaceful Spirit

I sit here quietly tonight, listening to the comforting sound of falling rain -- a rain that is washing away the uncomfortable heat and humidity of the last few days.  A cool breeze gently blows the lace curtains, and I think back over my busy Sunday to the peaceful moments that rested my tired spirit.  As I dressed this morning, my mind filled with a "to-do list", I walked past my library nook and was drawn to the sight of the bright morning sunshine filtering through my soft linen blouse which hung over the back of the chair.  How lovely it looked -- I grabbed my camera and captured the loveliness.

 

It amazes me how the most simple moments can bring such a feeling of peace.  I finished dressing and went downstairs to prepare a salad for an afternoon barbecue.  While the macaroni cooked and the eggs boiled, I diced an onion, brought chives, parsley and dill in from the garden and snipped them, and chopped the cooked shrimp.  My IPod was playing the country music I love so much, as I mixed everything together in a large bowl with mayonnaise.  I prepared a marinade for the steak and placed that into the fridge.  With a sense of relief -- a job well done -- I headed out to the garden to water the vegetable plants, feed the birds, and enjoy the serenity of my shady yard. 

 

 

 

As I walked out the door, my eyes were drawn to my newly blooming rosebushes along the fence.  Roses are favorites of mine, and the sight of these pink buds and blossoms, with their deep rose scent seemed like a reward for enduring the oppressive heat and humidity of the past week.  June always brings roses and peonies -- is it any wonder June has been immortalized by poets?  The birds were gathered at the feeder, hungrily devouring the few remaining seeds, as I headed out with their food.  On the way back from the feeder I stopped at my little pond to see if any frogs have taken up residence this year.

 

 

 

This pond is a peaceful little oasis of trickling water and graceful ferns.  This year in particular, the ferns are lush and full, providing a perfect blend of water and shelter for the birds, chipmunks and squirrels that drink from it each day.  How I love to sit near it and listen to the peaceful water and watch the chipmunks scamper in and out of the ferns.

 

I finished my work outside -- watering plants and filling my bird baths with fresh water.  Then I went back inside for a short rest before barbecue time.  A sense of peace lingered in my heart -- there is so much beauty surrounding us each day of our lives.  Sometimes this beauty is so quiet it gets lost in our tumultuous world -- we must search it out and savor it, because these little moments of beauty can be summoned again and again to bring us a measure of peace on our busiest and most stressful days.  A peaceful spirit is truly a gift --





A Carpet of Forget-Me-Nots

"There is a certain rhythm to rearing children and growing a garden.  They both require patience.  And watching.  And love." -- Molly Chappelett

This beautiful quotation speaks to my heart, especially in the spring as my garden wakes from its slumber.  I garden as I mothered -- sowing the seeds and gently tending, with no strict requirements --allowing both my children and my plants to become what they were destined to be.  

I have never been drawn to neat little beds of flowers.  I love a profusion of flowers.  My lily-of-the-valley migrate to the stone walk nearby; my thyme and oregano cascade over the little stone wall in my front yard.  My garden evolves -- as the canopy of leaves on my maple tree has shaded more and more of one garden, the showier flowers have given way to quieter plants with tinier flowers.  The birds and the winds carry new surprises to the gardens.  Where phlox once thrived in one garden, it is being replaced with black raspberry bushes which I never planted.

There are disappointments in the garden, as well.  Of the twelve climbing rose bushes I planted with loving care six years ago along the fence, only three or four remain -- and they look none too healthy at this point.  How sad for me -- a lover of roses!  This year I will try some other less fussy plants by the fence.  Along the driveway, in a patch of direct sunlight, a mix of phlox, coneflowers and a lovely yellow flower thrive.  Three years ago I bought one of the yellow flowers at a Garden Club sale -- the little old man who sold it to me didn't know its name, but said it grew very tall -- he was right.  Not only did it grow tall, it has also reseeded itself abundantly to provide a lush contrast to the pinks and purples growing alongside it.

How imperfect my garden is -- always changing, always growing outside its boundaries, fighting for space with a weed that haunts our neighborhood and makes my weeding chores difficult.  How much patience is required as I wait each year to see if the wisteria will finally bloom.  How frustrating when the deer eat the tulips as their leaves come out of the ground and the woodchuck devours the phlox out back before it has had time to blossom.

But, how beautiful it is was this morning to walk out into the yard and find a carpet of blue and white forget-me-nots.  Of course, this means the lawn will not be mowed anytime soon -- who can possibly mow down a carpet of flowers.  And so, my untidy, lush gardens thrive -- trees, berries, herbs and flowers -- raised with patience and watching and, most of all, love.