Each morning I walk around our yard and garden to pray, to sing and to see the changes, the growth and produce each day brings. And then each evening seems to be the time I walk around our yard and garden in much the same manner… only the mood and thoughts are different — it seems to have become a time to reflect on the changes of the day and make plans for the next. Lately, the changes of the days almost feel like an assault to my senses as I realize that Autumn’s in the air… I can smell it, taste it, feel it. The air is changing and another year is coming to a close.
I’ve been sincerely working at looking forward — instead of dwelling on the loss of another season. Now, that may seem pretty morbid to state it that way — losing another season — but when I think of summer’s passing and autumn’s arrival, I’m never thrilled with the prospect. But I should be — I should be glad — especially this year, I should be thankful and I should be hopeful: so much is ahead! The road ahead already has markers and I really ought to be embracing the thought of the marvelous plans and opportunities ahead. Still, I lament the passing of the warm, breezy, soft days of summer.
Since I’ve been freeing myself from the tangled web [here, etc.], I’ve spent at least a portion of nearly every day outside — the sunnier the day, the longer I’ve spent out in it. Summertime’s my favourite time of year here as it’s the only time of year in the Pacific Northwest where there’s a remote possibility of a very warm day — and, to me, the warmer and brighter the better!
I bought a notebook for a garden journal — should’ve done this long ago and really don’t know why I haven’t — but I got the notebook so that I could log the different things I did in the yard and garden this year — what I planted and when, what grew well and what didn’t, when trees and plants blossomed, when fruit or produce appeared… those kinds of things. I’m leaving lots of pages between sections or categories so that I can make this sort of a perpetual journal from year to year. I used to rely on my memory for what was planted and when maturity would happen or which bulbs were/are planted in different places and spaces. But I can’t do that very well now and want to be more productive with my time anyway.
A recent browsing of photographs reminded me of the importance of writing things down. The bush I thought I’d fairly recently planted has actually been in that spot, according to the photograph, for over a dozen years now. It seemed like only a few to me. So, you see the need for the garden journal?
As I’ve gotten used to being outside, getting my hands dirty, growing things and watching changes, I’ve seen and been where I’d forgotten I love to see and do. Instead of reading about what I love, instead of writing about what I love, I’ve been doing it… and every day I’m reminded of what’s most important. The passing of another season also reminds me that I must be about the work of the day, of looking forward, of treasuring this home and family: autumn’s in the air… the seasons are passing (snap your fingers) just like that.
