This variety of rose – I can’t remember her name – is a bit shy and you have to tip her face up to see her beauty. But she is so prolific this year I had to tie back her Medusa-like branches so they don’t completely overwhelm her slower-growing neighbour Hot Cocoa.
Note: The above photograph was taken with the
It’s almost like clockwork – every Spring, no matter how long it’s been since I last posted, I am inspired to write something about the sheer LIFE I experience burgeoning in my garden.
It usually starts with the Gertrude Jekyll roses – because they are early birds and because they smell divine. But even given their undeniable lusciousness, without the back-up chorus – lilacs shyly emerging from their slumber in the shade of the California Pepper, fat water lily buds jostling goldfish in the pond, eager buds covering every rosebush, tiny scrolled buds on the wild nasturtiums creeping under the fence; there’s even a peony bud building momentum in a pot outside my office door – I still might not be motivated to write.
But there is something so primal and yes, so beautiful, about this annual celebration of the life force that I too am awakened from sleep and want to take part.
It’s on days like this that I remember these words of Thich Nhat Hanh:
“The true miracle is not walking on water or walking in air, but simply walking on this earth.”
~ Thich Nhat Hanh
And I am moved to share my gratitude for being among the walking right now, for my garden
I lost my sister Katherine Grace on February 24th. I was privileged to share her last days, her last hours, and the precious minutes of her last breaths. I say privileged not only because she was extremely private and this sharing wasn’t a gift she gave easily, but also because the laying down of life is a sacred time for every human being, and it is always a privilege to be in the presence of the sacred. It’s a time when we are distilled down to the very essence of who we are. My sister fought hard for her life, for her time on this earth, even when she could no longer walk without help. But when it was time to lay it down, she surrendered with all the grace and beauty that defined her.
And as the beauty of new life emerges all around me, I send a silent prayer of gratitude for her life. In some secret way, I can imagine her here still, in my heart, like an unfurling bud that will continue to bloom as long as I walk this generous earth.
To my Kitty Gae, with love.
Happy Happy Gutenberg Day! My friend and colleague (and one of my original collaborators in the whole Beauty Dialogues idea) Beth Alexander and I are testing the great and soon to be ubiquitous (pervasive all across WordPress.org sites) Gutenberg – just going right in and activating the plug-in bravely, without any filters or safety nets. Into the fray! What will be, will be!
Ok. So far, so good. Nothing has broken, it’s all working fine.
Things are going so well that we (me and Beth) have decided to
Gutenberg, Oh Gutenberg
You make me giggle, Gutenberg.
Thank you for not blowing up the site
We appreciate that you certainly might.
Its a stretch for sure.
T
But what the heck, let’s ride the wave
Into the wild unknown we brave.
(Please excuse the silliness of this post – it was created as an experiment – a test to see how Gutenberg works in the current beta phase – somehow I forgot I actually have subscribers and that as soon as I pushed the “publish” button
I am beyond excited about my latest passion – Zentangles! I learned how to do this super-simple gorgeous little art form from Jill Greenbaum at a Book Sprint I was part of recently (which has a brilliant story on its own – check out my blog post about it on weDialogue).
I was hooked and have been exploring ever since, every chance I get. Of course I ordered all the introductory “gear” immediately – I’m such a gear freak – which in this case was very good art paper in pre-cut squares, a micron .01 black pen, a graphite pencil and a tortillion (cool fancy French term for “blending stump”, which is decidedly less glamorous).
Here’s the beauty I made with these simple tools:
