It’s dirt time again and that makes me happy! There’s very little chance of frost and there are lots of bedding plants at the nurseries and hardware stores. I love the conjunction of shiny hard tools and soft rich soil, old roots and rocks with fragile young plants. So much color. So much promise. So much completely unknown.
The only promise I’m certain the garden will keep is that things will change. Maybe the soil amended with manure and compost will provide just what my new perennials need, and maybe not. Perhaps the rains will come at favorable times and perhaps not. Oh yes--this is the familiar refrain in my life--maybe yes, maybe no; maybe a happy surprise, maybe a big disappointment. Gotta walk on forward anyway, get up when the sun says get up and then move out into the world with my eyes open.
Today the big news in the meadow is that the twin Great Horned Owls I have watched grown from eggs to ugly baby birds to hilarious adolescents learning to hop are no longer in the Ponderosa. They have learned to fly! The big tree off my porch is now very quiet. Smaller things like the willows turning green and the squirrels pairing up for races in the cottonwood trees keep happening also. And really, if I were a squirrel, that would not be such a small event but an opportunity to find a good looking mate and maybe to win a race. It’s all about perspective, isn't it? Maybe good, maybe bad as the old proverb tells the tale. Who am I to judge the worth of an event, especially in the short term?
So today I will try, once again, to not let my expectations limit my experience. This day invites me out and into the unknown, to see with new eyes and hear with new ears. To hear the tiny sounds in the silence the owls have left behind. To get my hands into the dirt and know I am truly at home on the Earth. To see what develops.
Blessings for your own development,
Eileen J Terry
Eileen is a Celtic Way Contributor. Read more about her here.