Friend, mentor, teacher, compatriot. I’m talking about Vera, a fellow “walker-in-the-woods” of life’s winding and wonderous paths. I adore her perspective, and her writing. You’ll see why in her guest post below. Please warmly welcome Vera as she takes us on a journey through her garden gates, where wild things romp and wisdom hangs its hat on every blade of grass.
Vera's Garden
Vera is my chosen name, belonging to my grandmother, who lamented never having someone named for her. To remedy, I call myself after her…. besides we look so much alike! Imagine Hobbit hill woman, hands on hips, elbows out, hen-like, poking and scratching the ground, yep that’s me, with the pointy gnome hat, magical shoes with shiny buckles cobbled by industrious elves.
I’ve been invited to guest blog ….. so here goes……
Morning’s these days are a riot of noise, coming from the bush outside my bedroom window. In gladness, birds sing up the sun and call forth the newly greening of the ground. Spring’s herald in my neck of the woods wears a robin’s red breast, the yellows and purples of April’s harlequin fool…(violets, crocus and daffodils are first to leave the gate) and the starry undeniable presence of the Orion over head in the early evening sky.
I’ve been blessed with my own little patch of earth to steward, and once again, it’s time to take stock of all the merry volunteers making their thrust toward the light. This is also the time to survey what was lost, as sometimes even with best efforts, some thing’s just don’t take. (oh no! Not the new roses….. Good thing the nursery has a one year guarantee!)
Tedious chores like tossing gravel back into the driveway that was shoveled into all manner of nooks and crannies of the yard and lawn from last winter’s snow management, or gently removing the odd chaff collected here and there demand attention. What shall I do with the tree limb that fell during a particularly vigorous wind? Cut, stack and burn in some sacred fire when ready of course!
I’m struck by how many different shades of green there are. Dusty sage, kelley, chartreuse, teal and all manner of the afore mentioned variegation to name a few. I’m blown away by what’s already a foot high, tulip…dock…crown imperial. It’s like welcoming back old friends, and I’m so glad to reacquaint!
Tiny splashes of green do this magical Monet-like spotty appearance as seeds fulfill their promise, that take on familiar patterns and shapes, most are welcome, some not so much (may all your weeds be wildflowers!).
Where I’m from, most trees are still in stasis now, with the exception of the globe willows that now sport the faint blush of leafing out. That welcome green of living color grows stronger every day.
Sunlight feels different now, sweetly stronger, warming like a lover’s kiss as it teases in playful hide and seek behind clouds pushed about by winds that still have a bite.
I have an endearing nickname for pansies. I call them “smiling faces.” They cheer even as they shiver in the breeze. This year I chose a wine-berry mix for the box by my door and yellows and red for the bowl by the street.
Heck, all blooms and blossoms to me have that effect…their beauty is their smile. Can you tell yet that out-of-doors is my element? That my personal hero was Tasha Tudor? That I’m partial to “flowery” language with a hint of tongue in cheek?
My prized possessions are perennial in nature like peaches, strawberries and apples, and the smell of roses or shade from my favorite tree on a hot day. My constant companions are chickens and a couple dogs.
My heart’s desire are for wild things to drop by for a visit, like quail, cock-pheasant, martin and wren. Owls and hawks are welcome too, only if they behave themselves with peaceful intentions.
In closing, I am so pleased to meet you all through words. To those who may have been sent into a diabetic coma, I beg your pardon. I’m new at this. :)
Welcome to my garden, and kindly tread softly, living things grow below.
