Normally I’m a dependable person who does what I say I will do. Until springtime. It’s when all I want to do is live by the weather. Meaning that on sunny days in April, I develop an intense desire to rake and dig and plant in my backyard regardless of anything else I’m supposed to do. It’s when my plants, like the tips of peonies—which English gardener Gertrude Jekyll called adorable pink snouts—begin to poke through the dark earth. It’s the time of the miracle of rebirth in New England.
You're right: you are a dependable person, but it's lovely to read that you think of yourself as "irresponsible" come spring. I'm not sure you merit such a strong word. But I feel the call of
Beautiful essay on the responsibility----and "irresponsibility"--- of gardening. As I deal with tremors of unknown origin, I have a new prescription from my 38th generation Chinese herablist. Get your hands into the dirt, garden, weed, lie down on the earth and feel its pulse. The other day I lay my towel down in a bed of wild garlic and watched a hawk make lazy circles over head. Then I got up and tackled all the weeds that had grown up like a wild vine in a fairytale, and next week, I shall plant. Even though we may finally be about to move. Hands in earth. I also am on a fast from cell phones and limit my computer use to one hour a day so I can spend more time in nature.
Just in from pulling an army of Creeping Charlie out of our rhubarb patch, I "got" your missive, Laurie! I guess my responsibility now is to the rhubarb that calls me out there from my editorial desk, and also to the hyacinths that call to be clipped and brought inside to perfume my office! You've made me realize that I often connect a feeling of "responsibility" with "calling!"
You're right: you are a dependable person, but it's lovely to read that you think of yourself as "irresponsible" come spring. I'm not sure you merit such a strong word. But I feel the call of
spring in your essay, which is lovely!
Yes, Sally. Sometimes the garden and the page are both responsibilities and callings at the same time.
Thanks, Carol. Yes, I am trying my best to be irresponsible.
Beautiful essay on the responsibility----and "irresponsibility"--- of gardening. As I deal with tremors of unknown origin, I have a new prescription from my 38th generation Chinese herablist. Get your hands into the dirt, garden, weed, lie down on the earth and feel its pulse. The other day I lay my towel down in a bed of wild garlic and watched a hawk make lazy circles over head. Then I got up and tackled all the weeds that had grown up like a wild vine in a fairytale, and next week, I shall plant. Even though we may finally be about to move. Hands in earth. I also am on a fast from cell phones and limit my computer use to one hour a day so I can spend more time in nature.
Just in from pulling an army of Creeping Charlie out of our rhubarb patch, I "got" your missive, Laurie! I guess my responsibility now is to the rhubarb that calls me out there from my editorial desk, and also to the hyacinths that call to be clipped and brought inside to perfume my office! You've made me realize that I often connect a feeling of "responsibility" with "calling!"