Cool May

May's refrigerator weather is keeping the daffodils in bloom even as the next roll-out of mid-spring blooms arrive--tulips, money plant, apple trees. The result is a feast for the eyes. Flowers everywhere you look.

As much as some people lament the cool weather, this British-style climates gives us British-style gardens: Everything blooming at the same time.

Keeping our cool is a learned skill for most of us, and it requires changing our perception, specifically changing our belief about something unpleasant.

Something unpleasant happens (cool weather), and we gripe and complain and wish for something different from what is. We can change our perception simply by practicing gratitude. It's so fabulously May out there! Keep up the gratitude for at least 30 seconds, and re-install every time the mind drifts into snarkiness.

This is one way we can learn to keep our cool and enjoy the cool weather of May.

Dancing in the May

This morning, before dawn, i walked to the top of a local mountain where Morris Dancers were dancing in the month of May. The dancers wear bells on their shins, have sticks to tap the ground, and lots of ribbons on their shirts. These English folk dances feel like a great way to welcome in the May.

For late risers, the men's team and the women's team danced again in the parking lot of the Town Hall at 6:45 a.m.

We take time to ceremonially welcome in a change of season--in this case, the month of May. Even though everything is impermanent, everything is in constant and continual change, we pause for a moment to welcome spring.

Good-bye Dear Bleeding Heart

In May, bleeding heart is beautiful with its arching stems and pink heart flowers. I take photos of the flowers and use the pictures to make notecards. I use the pictures of bleeding hearts as sympathy cards, sending them to people who have recently lost a loved one.

Two months later, the once-green foliage of Dicentra spectabilis has faded to yellow and the plant has set seed. I cut the foliage down to the ground and bury it in the compost.

Good-bye dear bleeding heart, until next May.

The Month of May

20 years ago, i graduated from Antioch University New England on May 3 with a Master's degree in Counseling. As a reward to myself, i dedicated the month of May to gardening. Then i started my job hunt in June.

Whenever i can, i love dedicating May as my major gardening month. What a great excuse to be outdoors, watching flowers come and go, my finger on the pulse of life.

Vermont Insight Meditation Center, where i teach, dedicated this month to a May Meditation Challenge. 72 people signed up to stabilize their practice by meditating every day. If they already had a steady practice, their commitment was to sit twice a day. My own commitment was to meditate outdoors every day. My cushion and shawl are sitting right beside the door to the deck.

Vermont Insight sends out an inspirational quote every morning.

What inspires us to meditate? What inspires us to place our fingers on the pulse of our life, on the pulse of our breath, the pulse of our thoughts and pay attention to our one and only precious life?

The Elements of the Season

My rule-of-(green)-thumb is to plant and transplant in May and stop the first weekend in June when the weather becomes too warm and dry. Usually Mother Nature supplies enough rain--9 inches--in May that i can be casual about watering my dozens of transplants.

This year, however, May is a drought. The date of the last frost was May 8. Since then we've had a few sprinkles adding up to a mere 3 inches of rain for May. With a string of 90 degree days, this so-called spring feels more like summer. I find myself drawn to contemplate the elements: earth, water, air, and fire.

We could think of the elements as states of matter-solid, liquid, and gas, and the heat needed to transmute them from one state to another (ice to water to steam).

The heat of the season is driving water into haze. Morning dew evaporates into humidity.

It's time to water the dry earth in the gardens, and i fortunately have a well that delivers 12 gallons a minute.

Earth, water, air and summer--sounds like gardening to me.