Inspiration

Greetings friends, neighbors, gardeners and fellow citizens of planet Earth. One of the many wonders of this world we live in is inspiration. Where does it come from? Sometimes it surprises us and sometimes we can summon it. Often it summons us. Is it always wandering around out there waiting to be called, or is it spontaneous and serendipitous, springing up from some deep reservoir of creativity deep within each of us? Can we create without it? Perhaps, but not very well. Can we garden without it? Not really.

This afternoon I was given a meteor sized burst of inspiration. One that I could have happily done without, but inspiration is a free agent not waiting for our bidding or definition. Minding my own business at around 3:00 p.m, I went to my car, which was parked across the street in a friend's driveway to get a case of Feng Shui supplies left there after doing a job. When I arrived, I saw my friend and her dog wandering around the driveway looking a bit disconcerted. She started walking my way, but before she could say more than "I was going to call you", I saw that my car had been damaged badly by an enormous limb that had been torn from an old tree in her neighbor's yard. The limb, it seemed, was ripped from the trunk by a gale force wind and speared down at light speed severely damaging my poor car. The limb didn't fall lengthwise across the roof. Oh no, it was focused like a light seeking missile. It appeared to have been shot like a fierce bolt of lightening from the hand of the great god Thor straight at my car.

Sometime later and still a bit in shock, I watched my seriously wounded, but much revered car, being towed on a flatbed out of the yard and down the street.

Certainly there is something to be learned from an experience such as this. Should I take this personally? Well, if you think that there were probably a hundred cars parked in the vicinity, and an equal number of ancient and rotted trees scattered throughout the yards and roadside, that fate selected my automobile as its victim, makes one wonder.

How does the gardener take this huge load of compost and turn it into something helpful and perhaps beneficial. A tall order under the circumstances. I was taught that one should use ones' frustrations and difficulties in life to learn something meaningful. Reluctantly, and with a certain amount of resentment, I decided that some inspiration could come out of what was, so far, a disaster. We naturally think, it could have been worse. That I or someone else could have been in the car, or in the way of the catapulting limb. Then I thought, that if my friend's neighbor had taken down this tree which was rotted throughout, then this wouldn't have occurred. Perhaps my car wouldn't have been unnecessarily damaged, and I wouldn't be out a $500. deductible for my insurance. If we take proper care of our trees, bushes and shrubs then this sort of thing doesn't occur.

If we have our trees examined and pruned regularly then the squirrels don't have easy access to our attics and easements creating havoc and costly damage to our houses. If we take care of our trees then they are less likely to snap in the wind, causing costly damage to house, property and injury to our persons. It is true that full sized trees can be a big expense to keep healthy and safe, but learning how to prune and shape a tree when it is planted can help to off set enormous expense later on. Not wanting to turn this into some petty, spiteful rant, I wandered around my yard and began taking stock of what one can do during the winter that could be a benefit to our gardens as well as ourselves. I have always used my garden as a source of healing and refuge. When life gave me more than I thought I could bear, ( I am not referring to the car and tree affair), when we are laid low by grief, pain and sorrow. my solution is, and always has been, to go in the garden and pull weeds until the pain and hurt begin to subside. When troubled, I may spend weeks or months focused on my garden, carrying off wheel barrows filled with weeds to the compost pile. Profoundly difficult experiences tend to ease up with time and weed pulling. We do not forget these difficult experiences, but in time we can live with them and carry on.

Robert Frost wrote:


On a Tree Fallen Across the Road
(To hear us talk)The tree the tempest with a crash of wood

Throws down in front of us is not bar

Our passage to our journey's end for good,

But just to ask us who we think we are

Insisting always on our own way so.

She likes to halt us in our runner tracks,

And make us get down in a foot of snow

Debating what to do without an ax.

And yet she knows obstruction is in vain:

We will not be put off the final goal

We have it hidden in us to attain,

Not though we have to seize earth by the pole

And, tired of aimless circling in one place,

Steer straight off after something into space.
Robert Frost


So in this cold and snowy wintry landscape, survey your gardens and trees. When the only colors left are the sprays of grasses, gold, lavender and red, the precious ever green of the pine and cedar, and yellow witch hazel sprigs distinct against the steel blue of a winter sky.


Trim away the dead and broken branches, check the trunk for rodent damage, and a little later in the dormant season, spray with non toxic pesticides to protect against disease.


Take yourselves to a heavenly place such as Longwood Gardens in Kennett Square, PA. Long after the roses and lotus garden are put to sleep, the fountains are turned off, and the splendor of Christmas season enchantment has been packed away until next year, the conservatories are burgeoning with color, fragrance and a veritable feast for the eyes. And soul.


I was there this past weekend with friends who were visiting from Canada. As the large and gorgeous flakes of snow fell outside covering the landscape with a soft and dreamy blanket of white and glisten, we meandered through the greenhouses. Greenhouses artistically filled with fragrant stock, flowering grapefruit and orange trees, jasmine large and small, and orchids that were stunning, leaving you feeling blessed and gaping. Some photos follow.


The 2010 White Flower Farm catalog arrived in the mail this week, signaling the beginning of the gardening season. White Flower Farm is for me, and many others I am certain, the time honored stardard for flower nurseries. It is time to puruse and be inspired by seed and plant catalogs of every kind. Remember to buy as many heirtage and organic seeds and plants as you can.

Make a plan of your gardens and dream them into all their seasonal glory. A butterfly bush by the screened porch perhaps. Gifts for gardening friends; the new Double Stardards Iris for JoAnn's birthday? Maybe the exquisite Arisema Jack-in-the-Pulpit for Katharine's shade garden. And so it goes. Life springs eternal.


The gardening season has begun my friends. Actually, to my mind it never ceases, but just rolls on one season to another. Moving from winter white, brown and grey, to azalea and magnolia pink, lavender and red, with creek beds lined with golden yellow forsythia. On to summer green and technicolor radiance, easing back into the golden, red and crimson of Autumn. Thank you dear Gaia, we are blessed.