The Middle-Aged Garden

One friend says she goes out to her garden every morning and deadheads. I take my garden cart and cut back the foliage of plants that have finished blooming. Now, in the middle of the season, plants are tall; they are middle-aged plants. Soon i have a cart full of dead bodies, which i haul to the compost pile.

Rupa dancing her way out of her living memorial service, cane in hand

Some friends die young. Rupa, a 75-year-old friend died 2 weeks ago. She was so vivacious and full of life. Yet i heard her say last winter that she was ready to go. I'm the one who wasn't ready for her to go.

Here's the chant i learned especially for Rupa's living memorial service 3 months ago--a memorial service that she attended and danced her way out of.

All things are impermanent.

They arise and they pass away.

To live in harmony with this truth

brings great happiness.

Flowers arising and passing.
Friends arising and passing away.

Going to Seed

Shall i let flowers go to seed? Or should i dead-head them right away?

Lupine seed pods

I am an inveterate starter of seeds, and as a result, my flowerbed look unkempt. I just cut the lupine stalks and spread their black seeds in a bed of wood chips. Columbine seeds are ripening, and i'm already thinking about next year's columbine crop.

All of May's beautiful money plant now looks faded and browning, but it is not yet silvery with age.

Columbine seed pods

Last evening i toured a beautiful and neat July garden. I come home to my straggling flowerbeds, some of which are booming with blooms and some of which look like way too many things are happening at the same time.

Shall i perpetuate the illusion of agelessness and only allow blooming flowers?
Or perhaps my flowerbeds, like me, are going to seed.