Lupine Seeds

Lupine have gone to seed, so i cut down the stem of seed pods and carry them to my lupine nursery bed. I had noticed that lupine love to grow in my wood chip paths, so a few years ago, i dedicated one narrow bed beside the vegetable garden as my lupine seed bed. I covered the bed in old wood chips, and Voila! Next year: lupines, which i can transplant to where i want them.

For decades, i had been inspired by the children's story of Miss Rumphius, since i am a Miss Rumphius-type character myself. I spread lupine seed in many locations with no luck. But the wood-chipped flower bed works great!

Miss Rumphius scatters lupine seeds and the neighbor children are inspired by her and the stories of her world travels.

We never know what seeds we are planting and what might bloom long after we are gone. I have certainly planted enough irritation seeds in my lifetime that i hope most of those "weeds" get weeded out by my meditation practice. Nowadays, i try to plant joy and happiness, gratitude and calm at every opportunity.

What seeds are you planting today?

Rain Garden

My favorite rain garden is the cloverleaf where i often enter onto the interstate. In the center of that single cloverleaf is a low spot, lower than the entrance ramp curving around it on 3 sides, and much lower than the traffic whizzing by on the interstate on the fourth "side." This drainage area is, right now, filled with blue lupines, happy daisies, and red clover (Vermont's state flower.)

When it rains, the water is held in this area, this "rain garden," so that stormwater runoff can percolate into the soil or slowly be released into the stream that drains this area.

This is what rain gardens do: they withstand the extremes of wetness and absorb the high nitrogen and phosphorous that is often found in runoff. A rain garden also guards against erosion that can be caused by a downpour.

How can we hold the challenges of our life when stress and distress rain down upon us? How can we hold difficult situations without resisting them?

Our mindfulness practice prepares us for the non-judgmental awareness to notice. "Oh, this." and "Just this." We don't have to have an opinion. We don't have to have a judgment. We don't have to launch into ain't-it-awful.

We simply hold the "too much" that may be storming through our lives. Let it infiltrate us. Feel the pain, the splats, and all the other unpleasantnesses. The mind wants so badly to make up a story about it. The story--whatever it is--guards us against feeling the present moment.

And after the storm, after all the thunder and lightning, the sun shines and daisies bloom.

Columbine Space

Columbines and lupines are blooming in my wood chip paths. I'm not surprised that columbines prefer to grow in the more acidic conditions of wood chips, but it's rather inconvenient. The walking paths are supposed to be for walking, not for flowers. At least, that's my view of the world.

Columbines and lupines have a different view of the world though. Not only are the wood chip conditions perfect for germinating their seeds, there's so much more room to spread out than in the crowded flowerbed.

Sort of reminds me of the person i live with. I like a clear flat surface, such as tabletops, the tops of bureaus, even empty chairs. He finds these clear surfaces perfect for putting down his shirt, his jacket, or his mail. Just like i move the columbines to a different flower bed, i move my sweetie's paraphernalia to his dedicated spot--his place at the kitchen table. His spot is sometimes piled high, and i put his dinner plate and silverware right on top of his piles of newspaper and mail. My place at the table is clear, just the way i like it.

Stress is in the eye of the beholder. I move the columbines and lupines to a different spot and feel much better. My sweetie's "overgrown" spot is within inches of my cleared off space. My space. His space. The columbine's space. Is there really such a thing as "my" space?

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.