Of Friends and Ferns

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Of the many plants we tend in our garden, this fern has been around the longest.  In fact, it is the only plant that has lived with us in a number of homes and gardens of all kinds and in different places.  When we lived in an old Victorian house in the town both Joe and I grew up in, I found this plant in a garage sale.  That was in 1981!  So for over 30 years now, this fern has endured!  In the 1980’s, it moved with us twice.  When our family moved to California, then within a year to Indonesia, I left it in my sister’s care. When we came back to the U.S. in 1992, she gave it back to me!  It has endured drought, hurricane force winds, various divisions and repotting.  What stories have surrounded these fronds that keep on growing and greening!  I guess you could call it a faithful fern. It lasts. It keeps on keeping on!

That is why it reminds me of the people in my life I am blessed to call friend, those who through many years and over distances of many miles and circumstance are still part of my life,  outlasting storms and dry spells.  I am grateful for fern and friends and the faithfulness of God in His provision and sustaining of that which keeps plants and relationships alive, enduring, and growing.

Farewell, Tree

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On the edge of our church’s prayer garden, a massive cedar tree stood like a guardian of the corner for many many years.  Not as beautiful as the spreading arms of the oak tree nearby, yet its stature and twisted, pitted trunk, spoke story to all who stood beneath it.  Because it was diseased and damaged, there had been concern about the damage it would do if it came down on its own, creating danger for the many children and adults passing underneath daily.  The time came three weeks ago as a storm with high winds was forecast when a decision was made to fell the tree – a wise decision, but a sad one.  Here are photos of the fallen giant and a small poem in memory of a very large friend.

Farewell, Tree
ancient evergreen groans
massive gnarled trunk splits
thundering as it falls
hiding place sundered
red bird sits on broken branch
friends gather
breathing the scent of cedar

“Roses, Late Summer”

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If I had another life I would want to spend it all on some unstinting happiness.

I would be a fox, or a tree full of waving branches. I wouldn’t mind being a rose in a field full of roses.

Fear has not yet occurred to them, nor ambition. Reason they have not yet thought of. Neither do they ask how long they must be roses, and then what. Or any other foolish question.

-Mary Oliver, excerpted from “Roses, Late Summer”

 

 

I admire Mary Oliver’s poetry.  These lines, as do so many of hers, tug at my heart with an “oh, yes.”

I read between her lines that for me are describing the desire to be rid of the prickling, thorny, uncomfortable, and sometimes unnecessary things on which we spend ourselves. Oliver chooses a fox, a rose, and a tree – all created by God and lovely, although we are never told those things were created in God’s image.  Only man, with all his questions and fears, is said to be made like Him and for being with Him, not just His creation.  Only we have reason and relationship.  I revel in this life in relationship with my Creator and the family He has given me. I know who answers my foolish questions and calms my fears. I am practicing happiness as I celebrate this moment.  I think Mary Oliver likes what lies between her lines when I read them.

Waiting…

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“To wait with openness and trust is an enormously radical attitude toward life. It is choosing to hope that something is happening for us that is far beyond our own imaginings. It is giving up control over our future and letting God define our life.” Henri Nouwen

My garden calls me to remember much about waiting with openness and trust – to choose hope.  All around me are signs of beginnings and growth.  Not all happen when I predict.  Many don’t develop on the same time-table as previously experienced.  But if I am attentive, the astonishing beauty and meaning is indeed beyond my own imagining.

Rosemary for Remembrance

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Yesterday I planted Pineapple Sage,  Bee Balm, Stevia, and  Lime Balm as well as Genovese Basil. Most years we have close to a dozen varieties of basil alone, and we have mounds of oregano and mint. Cilantro and dill are beginning to bolt to flower since we have had such warm weather.  Of all the herbs, I love rosemary best for its symbolism of faithfulness and remembrance. Whether I brush against it in the garden or bruise it before sprinkling over something roasting on the grill, the pungent fragrance calls me to remember God’s faithfulness.

Easter Joy

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Our granddaughters are a joy for many reasons.  One of those reasons is the way they express their own joy.  On Saturday, long before we had fun coloring Easter eggs, and certainly before Easter morning with the excitement of baskets and the donning of frothy pink dresses, Maddie took the sidewalk chalk out to decorate our front walk.  She worked on several Easter egg drawings, but at the beginning of the sidewalk, she drew the pink cross you see in this photograph.  If you look very closely, you can see at the top what she thinks the cross means.  “Jesus Loves You.”

Growing Season

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We fan the seed packets out like playing cards. My granddaughter chooses Red Leaf lettuce, Sweet Basil and Bouquet Dill. I pick Tarragon and Jewel Nasturtiums. We take them outside and find the rusty trowel and a small hoe. She loosens the soil and draws a line with her finger before carefully placing the tiny lettuce seeds, patting a veil of earth over them with the other hand. She fills the watering can she once called “flower shower”. My seed picks unopened, I stand watching her with a fullness in my heart that makes my eyes sprinkle.

seeds will sprout green and grow deep

loved by a sun warmed hand and heart

little girl also growing

Markers

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I have previously written about my love for feathers, how a long time I ago I began to recognize the finding of a feather as a small signal that God is present.  Often when I pray for myself or others I pray for hiding under the shadow of His wing.  It is very simple, I choose these tiny found objects as reminders of how God has been and will be with me.  This is not the only reminder, there is evidence all around me in my home and garden.  Recently as I was reading passages in the Old Testament which speak of the stone markers erected to remind both present and future generations of God’s help, I realized these and my feathers are doing the same thing – simply saying “remember!”

“Samuel took a large stone and placed it between the towns of Mizpah and Jeshanah. He named it Ebenezer—”the stone of help”—for he said, “Up to this point the Lord has helped us!” —1 Samuel 7:12, NLT

Here I raise mine Ebenezer;
hither by thy help I’m come;
and I hope, by thy good pleasure,
safely to arrive at home.
Jesus sought me when a stranger,
wandering from the fold of God;
he, to rescue me from danger,
interposed his precious blood. —Come, Thou Fount of Every Blessing

Surviving

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Gardens are such good storytellers!  The climbing rose in this picture is on an arbor by our backyard fish pond.  It is a Peggy Martin rose.  For those who may have never heard this story, I will tell you it is named for the woman who grew it in her garden near New Orleans, along with hundreds of other roses before Hurricane Katrina.  All the roses were under about 20′ of salt water for two weeks following the hurricane. When she was finally able to return to visit their property she found new growth on this one rose, all that remained. In the devastation she also lost her elderly parents, her home, and commercial fishing boat that her husband used to supplement their income.  She didn’t even know the name of the rose since a cutting had been given to her by mother in law who had also been given a cutting.

Dr. Bill Welch from Texas A&M along with other antique rose experts and growers helped to get the newly named “Peggy Martin” rose into the marketplace where proceeds help restore gardens throughout the South devastated by Katrina and other forces of nature.

The story always makes me wonder what made this rose any different from the rest to give it the resilience and fortitude to say “I’m still here and growing better.”   One thing has to be that its roots were stronger and deeper.  I am still thinking about the fact that its cuttings root very easily…it is flexible and can handle change.  The telling of all this has to include a theme of restoration, too.  Out of the Martins’ great loss has come a way to help others.

What a good gardening story!  Soul gardening, too.

Connections

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John Muir said, “When one tugs at a single thing in nature, he finds it attached to the rest of the world.”  This year the early blooming trees are particularly beautiful. Redbuds, Huisache, Plums, Bradford pears are a riot of purples and yellows and lacy whites along with still bare branches. When I go for a walk, I often find myself at a standstill, stopped in my tracks at the sight of one tree bursting with color.  A turn of my head brings more flowering.  The trees lead me to each other, all singing songs of fresh starts.