On giving thanks…
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| The last canning for this year: pickled sweet banana rings. |
What better place is there to express your thankfulness than in the
garden? This little patch of black dirt where sweat, toil, care and attention
turn what used to be harsh clay into black dirt and its fairy carpet of greens,
yellows, reds and blues, of the crunchiest green endive to the sweetest Asian
pear or fig without forgetting those plump little cherry tomatoes that never
make it to the kitchen, appreciated as they are on the spot, from lovingly picking
to appreciating lips in less than a second, with a taste lingering into the new
morning. What better place is there to appreciate nature’s spell surrounding
its disciple and follower with enchanting perfumes, awe-inspiring beauty and
flavors hardly tasted anywhere else?
Sure, at this time of year, our little corner hardly looks like the
garden of Eden I get lured into throughout all summer; banana leaves look pitiful,
dried and frozen, more like an army of ghosts trembling in winter’s cold
breath. Even our house now stands in its midst in utter nakedness, having lost
her leafy vestments, in the middle of what can only be called desolation. After
the last few frosts, our little piece of paradise looks more like the Flanders
trenches after the harsh 1917 winter with its black, dried stems, its bare
branches, and the few green vegetables shivering under pale shrouds of winter
covers, helping them survive those frigid nights.
Good thing is, a gardener is an eternal optimist, not really living in
the now but planning for six months, a year or multiples from now, already
living into next season or planting to harvest ten years from today. Despite the
cold wind, I already have noticed the seemingly tender leaves of poppies
volunteering by the mail box, soon to be joined by corn flowers, tulips and
daffodils. Before we know it, our garden’s bareness will again be covered in a
wild tapestry of colors, shapes and looks. What better place to reflect upon my
thankfulness than on this little spot where decay turns into beauty, where tiny
little seeds provide sustenance for so many, in food and in appreciable beauty?
What better place to soon meditate on the beauties of life, to appreciate the
bounties and the knowledge that this makes me a better member of my small
community, partaking of the goodness, sharing the knowledge, helping create
more gardens in our neighborhood?
While nature may seem dead right now, she is just dormant, taking a
little break, maybe forcing us to appreciate her absence but soon we’ll be
surrounded by her gifts again; gifts I am very thankful for, today and every
day of my life. Thank you for my garden and everybody in my life, right here or
connected on line.
My life wouldn’t be quite this full
and satisfying without all of you.
