Thank you Winnie for your support, it means a lot to me, having you here. And everyone else, Welcome! I would like to have an adventure, lets walk down a trail and see what magic we can find, want to? There may be portals between the hedgerows and the corn fields so keep a good eye open. Whichever path we take let's keep nature close by our side and our hearts tuned to the divine, shall we? I have a feeling it's going to be grand. I'll meet you here by the blue door.
Sunday, April 25, 2004
Sprouting
by Trendle Ellwood
All of a sudden the rug has been pulled out from under me. I have slipped into action as winter disappeared. It has not been cold in ever so long, and I am barefoot and it feeeeels wonderful! The season has slipped earnestly into spring, everything is turning green! Even I am turning green I think, but perhaps that is just my nettle tea.
We are getting some dark misty days now.
I can plant my little seeds into the soil and they are nourished by the gentle falling showers, who caress them into awakening. I sense them stirring beneath the soil, swelling with water and life, opening to a new day beyond the dark embracing capsule of the seed. Do they wonder where they are going, these little sprouts, as they reach to the sun? Or do they only know that towards the sun is where they need to go? Already the Larkspur that I planted back in February (Larkspur to sprout, likes a touch of frost) arises from the hollow tree trunk pots that I planted them in. I vision how they will look in May with their delicate white, purple, blue tops waving.
Hubby gave me a present. He gave me a piece of land that he has worked up, it is so lush! You see where we live, Once Upon a Time somebody built a big clay pot, and that is what we are sitting on, this big clay pot that is melting when it rains. And when it is dry the soil is pure compacted clay. It takes a shovel and a foot to dig into this ground. But to this piece of land that Hubby gave me he has added leaves and compost and tilled it, then he let it rest in for a year, then tilled it again. I can now reach my hands down into it, just poke right in with my finger and slide my whole arm into loamy welcoming soil. Ah! It is like coming home again! Hah!
All my other duties seem to call too loud, and I get cranky. All I want to do is go outside into the rain, and tuck my seeds into their nests. It is these misty wet delicious days that I love best. It seems the mist seeps deep inside of me,
Gives me buoyancy and sets me free.
All is green and fresh and new and growing,
My heart goes with the dewdrops, the raindrops, swirling.
Then like misty vapors
Soaring.
Exploring.
Knowing ever more blue-sky faces.
Settling in with mossy, ferny, secret places.
Where my heart always longs to be.
Green and wild
And free.
The new bed is going to be my annual flowerbed. We will till it every year for a fresh start, which will be so much easier then digging out perennial weeds. Why hadn’t we thought of this before, a bed of annual flowers?
I could not wait to get outside to my new garden spot. Finally I did and I scooped out the paths with my shovel, piling the dirt into raised beds. Then I went to the leaf pile and with the wheelbarrow carted the old leaves back to line the paths. After a few hours I had it all done! I went to the house to get my seeds. I came back to my waiting garden to find that the chickens had gotten out and had headed for their chocolate cake mix, my garden! They had mixed the paths and the beds together, stirred up just like the baking powder and flour in the cake mix bowl. There was nothing to do but round up the chickens and go back for a few more barrowful of leaves.
Night came on and other duties called and my seeds did not get planted that evening. I was not used to all of this physical work, it had been a lazy winter. I drug myself to the house my body aching. For the next two days I would have to focus my attention towards the opening day of the farm market.
It was very misty on the way to the market. I don’t think you could see three feet in front of the car. It was 6:30 when we went into town to set up. The mist enveloped the rest of the farmers and us, as we all, like dreamers, set up our tables and helped each other with the awnings. The first early rising patrons came leisurely through, while the mist slowly lifted and a beautiful clear day was unveiled.
Markets, gardens and spirals, I have slipped into action with the sprouts and the presence of spring.
Copyright © 2004 by Trendle Ellwood. All Rights Reserved.
All of a sudden the rug has been pulled out from under me. I have slipped into action as winter disappeared. It has not been cold in ever so long, and I am barefoot and it feeeeels wonderful! The season has slipped earnestly into spring, everything is turning green! Even I am turning green I think, but perhaps that is just my nettle tea.
We are getting some dark misty days now.
I can plant my little seeds into the soil and they are nourished by the gentle falling showers, who caress them into awakening. I sense them stirring beneath the soil, swelling with water and life, opening to a new day beyond the dark embracing capsule of the seed. Do they wonder where they are going, these little sprouts, as they reach to the sun? Or do they only know that towards the sun is where they need to go? Already the Larkspur that I planted back in February (Larkspur to sprout, likes a touch of frost) arises from the hollow tree trunk pots that I planted them in. I vision how they will look in May with their delicate white, purple, blue tops waving.
Hubby gave me a present. He gave me a piece of land that he has worked up, it is so lush! You see where we live, Once Upon a Time somebody built a big clay pot, and that is what we are sitting on, this big clay pot that is melting when it rains. And when it is dry the soil is pure compacted clay. It takes a shovel and a foot to dig into this ground. But to this piece of land that Hubby gave me he has added leaves and compost and tilled it, then he let it rest in for a year, then tilled it again. I can now reach my hands down into it, just poke right in with my finger and slide my whole arm into loamy welcoming soil. Ah! It is like coming home again! Hah!
All my other duties seem to call too loud, and I get cranky. All I want to do is go outside into the rain, and tuck my seeds into their nests. It is these misty wet delicious days that I love best. It seems the mist seeps deep inside of me,
Gives me buoyancy and sets me free.
All is green and fresh and new and growing,
My heart goes with the dewdrops, the raindrops, swirling.
Then like misty vapors
Soaring.
Exploring.
Knowing ever more blue-sky faces.
Settling in with mossy, ferny, secret places.
Where my heart always longs to be.
Green and wild
And free.
The new bed is going to be my annual flowerbed. We will till it every year for a fresh start, which will be so much easier then digging out perennial weeds. Why hadn’t we thought of this before, a bed of annual flowers?
I could not wait to get outside to my new garden spot. Finally I did and I scooped out the paths with my shovel, piling the dirt into raised beds. Then I went to the leaf pile and with the wheelbarrow carted the old leaves back to line the paths. After a few hours I had it all done! I went to the house to get my seeds. I came back to my waiting garden to find that the chickens had gotten out and had headed for their chocolate cake mix, my garden! They had mixed the paths and the beds together, stirred up just like the baking powder and flour in the cake mix bowl. There was nothing to do but round up the chickens and go back for a few more barrowful of leaves.
Night came on and other duties called and my seeds did not get planted that evening. I was not used to all of this physical work, it had been a lazy winter. I drug myself to the house my body aching. For the next two days I would have to focus my attention towards the opening day of the farm market.
It was very misty on the way to the market. I don’t think you could see three feet in front of the car. It was 6:30 when we went into town to set up. The mist enveloped the rest of the farmers and us, as we all, like dreamers, set up our tables and helped each other with the awnings. The first early rising patrons came leisurely through, while the mist slowly lifted and a beautiful clear day was unveiled.
Markets, gardens and spirals, I have slipped into action with the sprouts and the presence of spring.
Copyright © 2004 by Trendle Ellwood. All Rights Reserved.
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