This Little Light Of Mine

 

I went outside the other night just after sundown to get something I'd left on the patio. I stood for a moment to look out over the yard and, especially, over my little container garden for this year. Although it had been a warm day, up into the low 80's, June has been a crazy month weather-wise. This after following on the heels of an insane month of May where we saw everything from 90-degree heat to frost warnings on the last two days of the month! Needless to say, my plants are playing catch up. The seeds I planted the last week of May are just now starting to peek out!

As I stood there looking out over the lawn, I saw something out of the corner of my eye. I turned my head and looked but saw nothing at first. Then ... there it was again, a blink of light. A lightening bug. One solitary lightening bug! The first little light of the season!

I think most of us can remember summer nights when we were kids spent trying to catch those little lights and put them in a jar to make a lantern. Even as a child I always thought there was something wrong with that even though all my friends thought it was what we were supposed to do. I kept thinking of those poor, frightened bugs all shut up in those airless jars blinking for their lives. It seemed to me that doing that was not only a mean thing to do to them, but it was keeping them from doing what they had been created to do - light up the darkness and bring some light to the world.

All these years later, after decades of fighting for animal rights and to heal the earth before we lose all the lightening bugs (and the earth itself), I can't help but think that we humans are doing the same thing ourselves. We're shutting our light up instead of using it to light the world and those who live in it. I remember teaching my Sunday School students the song, "This Little Light of Mine," and hoping they'd get the message. Now they are all grown up and I am hoping that they, and all of us, are recognizing that only light can see us through the darkness. 

Let your little light shine. All those little lights together can illuminate the world!

Peace and blessings. 

Mother, May I?

 

I've been giving Mother Nature a hard time lately for which I humbly apologize. I've been complaining about the weather - from cold, to hot, to frost, and, of course, the endless rain. It's the kind of thing that grates on the nerves of all gardeners whose hands are itching to get into the dirt and start planting. So far, the only dirt I've been able to get my hands into are my houseplants! Meanwhile with all this rain, we're still trying to mow the lawn for the first time before we need a machete and a jungle guide.!

Mothers' Day is tomorrow. I want to tell Mother Nature how sorry I am for complaining to her all the time and not thanking her for all the blessings she has always bestowed on me. Thank you for bringing the leaves back on the trees and showering me with blossoms whenever the breeze blows. Thank you for the morning birdsong that greets me every morning and the sound of baby birds chirping in the nests. Thank you for the first tiny shoots of green coming out of the ground, and the promise of tulips and crocus to come. Thank you for the return of the geese who are my spirit guides and inspiration to not be afraid to fly. Thank you for breathing life into all of us.

It's sad to think that we humans often forget to thank the mothers of this world until a holiday comes along to remind us to do so. We forget all that they do for us, not just our own mothers, but those who are mothering all of us: teachers, doctors, nurses, pastors, friends, even the lady that cuts our hair. When you care for the needs of others, you are mothering. So, to all the women of the world, and some men as well, I want to say, "thank you," for nursing us, feeding us, guiding us, and loving us. Without you the world would not survive.

And so it is.

An Accidential Garden

The other day I was walking around in the yard measuring out my ideas for the new garden layout. Even though things are blooming in the southern parts of the New York State,  here up north things are just starting to come out. It's still too early to plant outside since it is not unheard of for us to get frost in April, but I can measure, draw, and design, order planters and other materials, and get ready for May to open the door to gardening in earnest. 

Anyway, as I was walking around, I noticed a small patch of Forget-Me-Not sticking out of the ground in a space when I knew I had not planted them. In fact, my entire garden last year was a container garden. I mentioned this to my great-grandson who is just getting into gardening and ready to be my partner this year. Smarter than the average 12 year old, he said: "You know, Gigi, maybe the wind blew them out of the pot or your hand when you were planting them last year, or maybe a bird did it." Never under estimate the power of a child to set you straight.

How many times in our lives do unexpected things turn up where we would least expect them to, or a door that had been closed for years suddenly open? How many times have we "planted seeds," in our lives or careers but given up hope when nothing sprouts, and see have it burst into bloom years later? I think the most important lessons I've learned in my life came from seeds I planted years ago only to see them finally shoot up now in my "golden years." Perhaps it was a mix of hope, experience, and wisdom that comes from living 70+ years that finally made them bloom. I think the idea is that hope is the seed we plant, experience is the soil, and wisdom is the fertilizer. 

Have you planted seeds in your life that haven't bloomed yet? Maybe it's time to change your soil, sprinkle a little fertilizer, and never, never give up hope. You'll be surprised what pops up in the most unexpected places.

And so it is.

 

The Wearing of the Green

 

As soon as Valentine's Day was past, stores and windows were adorned with decorations for St. Patrick's Day. Everywhere I looked were leprechauns, four leaf clovers, and a sea of green. There was green everywhere except where I wanted to see it the most ... in our back yard.

For weeks all I could see when I looked out of the window was a blanket of white. We didn't get as much snow as we usually get up here in the north, but what did fall stayed and stayed. It was an unusually cold winter and even though we had a few sunny days, the -20 windchills did not help. Then, finally, a warming trend. It got so warm that you didn't need a jacket. Mother Nature had a heck of a  hot flash because it just about hit 70 degrees before coming to her senses and sending the temperature back down in the 40's. Thankfully, it was enough to erase the sea of white and replace it with the beginnings of what I have come to call "The Greening." That is the time when the earth starts to slowly wake up and stretch her green wings. The grass turns from brown to green, the buds on the trees start to peek out, and the birds are happily flapping their own wings and setting to the task of nest building.

I don't know any gardener who lives in zones like ours that doesn't start to get impatient around this time of year. We've received out seed catalogs in the mail, and the stores are already having sales on soil, seeds, and garden tools. Now all we need is for Mother Nature to come out of hibernation along with the bears and start spreading the green around. Just like the joy in St. Patrick's Day, there's nothing like a little greenery to lift our spirits.

And so it is. 

 

Hearts, Flowers ... And An Angry Groundhog!

 

I don't think I'm exaggerating when I say that in all my 76 years, I cannot remember such a long and brutal cold spell. For the last 10 days it has not only been below freezing here in upstate New York, but it has also been well below zero during the overnight, with wind chills as low as -34! I fear the poor groundhog has been getting all the blame for this terrible winter which is so unfair if you really think about it. After all, there he is, all tucked up warm and waiting out the winter, and some strange humans yank him out of his home into the bitter cold and flash all kinds of lights in his face while cheering loudly. Would you be inclined to give them a positive forecast? I think not. Besides, even the groundhog knows that in this neck of the woods, winter is going to hang on until April or May regardless of what he tells you. If you're not happy with the forecast, take it up with Mother Nature!

Thankfully we have something coming up this week that will hopefully take out minds off of the cold - Valentine's Day. Hearts are on display in all the stores, candy makers are working overtime, and flowers are flowing again, if not in our gardens, then certainly via mail and floral deliveries. The snow may be refusing to melt outside, but inside we can warm our hearts with the sight and smell of roses, and spring bouquets. In other parts of the country and places like Ireland and England, snowdrops (the flower, not the actual snow), are poking their heads up through the wet ground, tiny green shoots are as well, promising that daffodils and crocus are on their way. When the winds change from bitter cold to warmth again, our hearts and our gardens will feel the warmth again as well.

So, I've decided to write a letter to Punxsutawney Phil to apologize on behalf of "those" humans for blaming him for our bitter weather, and for disturbing him. Maybe if we send him a basket of dandelion greens and clover for Easter, he'll be kinder to us next year. Hey, it's worth a shot, right?

And so it is. 

Dreams In The Mailbox

 

\

All the decorations are down, and the house has been put back in order. Many of us are hunkered down with warm blankets, a stash of tea, and some good books to help get us through the long, dark and snowy days of winter ahead. I have to admit that I'm in that group. My great-grandson got me a lovely, warm throw for Christmas. My tea draw is full, and I have at least a dozen books on my Kindle loaded and ready. There's just one more thing I need to get through the winter and keep my sanity ... the mailman!

Ok, let me explain. To a gardener, winter is seed catalog time. It's like the Easter Bunny coming early. Seed catalogs are the bible of the gardening world. When I say, "seed catalogs," I also mean gardening catalogs and magazines. Days and days of turning those glossy pages filled with pictures of flowers, veggies, herbs, pretty garden ornaments, bird baths and bird feeders, as well as unusual pots and containers, and a host of other things. The snow may be falling like a curtain outside, but inside as I sit in my favorite armchair, I am surrounded by spring.

This year I am particularly interested in learning more about container gardening and working in raised beds. My trial run last summer in the little section of my daughter's yard that has been allotted to me gave me some successes and some failures, but all of it a learning experience. Now I know what will grow, what won't, and what I will need to make it bloom. I'm also dedicated to attracting butterflies and birds which we had few of last year. All in all, it's going to be a spring and summer of fun, exploration, and learning. You're never too old to dream a dream or go for the gold! Now if that nice mailman would only get here!

And so it is. 

And So It Is Christmas

 

The tree is up and decorated. The snow is on the ground. We've dug out our warm, cozy Christmas pajamas. The blow-up Rudolph is outside with the others and lights are strung and lit. Yep, it is officially Christmas!

I love this time of year. I love to see the excitement on the faces of the little children in the stores as they stare with wonder at all the lights and decorations. I love the smell of cookies baking, the sound of paper and scissors as presents are wrapped, and the soft carols playing in the background. For just a little while, the world is warm, and loving, and magical. I don't care how old I get; at Christmas time I'm 6 years old again and Santa is bringing me the teddy bear I fell in love with in the window of the hardware store downtown!

Right now, the world is in more turmoil than I can ever remember. Every night when I say my prayers, I ask God to not let my grandchildren inherit this mess. Still, I remember also to say thank you for those warm pj's, the pretty lights, the yummy cookies, and, most of all, the greatest gift ever given. Christmas is all about children, big and small, young and old, and one very special child above them  all. 

May we never get too old to revisit the magic of Christmas for ourselves and for others, and may we never forget the true reason for the season.

Have a blessed and beautiful Christmas. 

And so it is.