Azaleas in Bloom

We escaped mud season and fled to Florida since we have both been double jabbed. Down here (near Tallahassee), young leaves are just coming out in spring green. Azaleas are in bloom everywhere!

Spring is indeed sprung. A unique smell is in the air--beautiful and delicious. To someone from north Florida, this is how home smells, especially in the moonlit evening.

How does home smell? Indescribable, yet so familiar.

When we come home to our heart of hearts, the feeling is indescribable. And so familiar.  Take a few tries at describing the indescribable. Calm. Peaceful. At ease. Safe. This is one description of love.

Yellow Willow

 Weeping willows are turning yellow--an early, early sign of spring. There are still weeks to go before we see green leaves, but in this white and dark and pine landscape, i see yellow as a change, something different. Color!

A few friends have fled snow country for the sunny South because the weeping winter blues are just too depressing. 

Willow trees are sending a message:

Change. Change is happening every day. Change is flowing through our life. Simply notice.

Come home friends. Come join the quickening parade of change.

December Vegetables

 

Today i harvested the last 3 sprigs of broccoli and one turnip. That's a meal for one--turnip soup and steamed broccoli.

The vegetable garden keeps giving and giving. Even though this offering seems pale by comparison to the abundance of summer, it's enough. 

Thanks to the bright green and purple generosity of the garden.

Potato Harvest

 

Today i dug up 5 gallons of potatoes. I wonder how many pounds that is? One thing i know: It's heavy.

Now for the cleaning and sorting. After washing, i want them to dry out and for their skins to "heal." I know from past experience that sending them straight to the 55-degree basement will cause them to mold. So the potatoes need to dry out for a few days, yet not be exposed to the sun lest they get sunburn--their skins turn green. 

So i put each batch in a flat, cover it with a dish towel, and store it under the dining room table for a few days. We are not expecting company for dinner any time soon, so no one will know.

Digging potatoes is like searching for buried treasure. The Buddha's teachings are a treasure that will feed us for the rest of our lives.

Meanwhile, i have enough potatoes to last me several months.

Red Malabar Spinach

In July, i bought Red Malabar Spinach to spruce up the flowerpots on my front step. Even though the name sounds like a vegetable, the plant looks very decorative--shiny green leaves on a red-stemmed vine with small white-pink flowers. Best of all, the spinach continues to grow happily during the hot days of summer since it comes from Malabar in the southwest coast of India.

My green, leafy vegetable is waiting for me every time i walk in the front door. Mindfulness is waiting for me every time i walk from the garage to the front step.

Christmas Ferns

Here in the North Country, we have two types of evergreen ferns. The Christmas fern has straight-edge leaves and are lovely to behold in a dusting of snow, such as we have now.

The winter snows beat them down, so that by spring they are lying flat on the ground. Then the new fronds spring up.

Sometimes, life beats us down. It can especially feel that way in the winter. Whether we realize it or not, we do still have an internal springiness, but we may have to wait for it to show up in our lives.

In the mean time, during these chill, dark, winter days, you can retreat to mindfulness. That's what i'm doing these first two weeks of January--making a commitment to sit for 2 hours every day.

The Christmas ferns are green under the snow.

Lawn Loves Sleet

It's sleet-raining this morning at 35 degrees--a raw, wet day. But the lawn is loving it. Suddenly, the grass is green, the flowerbeds are gorgeously green. The moss looks utterly Irish.

Sleet--unpleasant. Green--pleasant.

By accentuating the positive, we actually feel happier. Our immune system works better too.

Let's go for a walk in the cold rain. It's beautiful out there.

Photo from flickr.com

The July Garden

Just at a time when July flowers are peaking, 2 of my flowerbeds are flat green. I gaze longingly at other people's blooming gardens that shout July! I forget that mine shouted May! and are now resting from their exertions. When the July! beds are resting in September, mine will be singing again.

I want flowers now. Want. Now. But now is an oven--too hot to launch any refurbishing of the green-on-green gardens.

Want. Wanting things to be different than they are. This is the stress of gardening.

Could i let go and be content with what is?

Green is a beautiful color (especially if you live in the desert), and i have many shades of it.