- Patience. The six spindly plants I planted last year that barely survived the summer came back lush, fruitful and vibrant after the rains of spring.
- Optimism. I've amended the soil and planted six more along that stretch of fence where several plants died last year.
- Enjoying the Moment. I've been harvesting berries for several weeks now. With only this small patch, this means every couple of days, five to ten tiny little berries are ripe for the picking. Just enough for a single serving, sweet and delicious and best eaten the same day.- Steady Hands. It's delicate work, cutting the berries loose without bruising them.
- Observation. Berries ripen overnight; I have to check the patch every day to catch them when they're ripe for me but not yet noticed by the critters.
- Calm. Working in the earth, in any capacity, brings me calm. The worst of moods, the heaviest of worries, even the grip of sorrow can be dispelled after a few minutes of digging up the earth. The monotony of weed-pulling offers a rhythm all its own - and the occasional joy of actually getting the whole root of the dandelion.
I've been thinking a lot about the Strawberry Moon, of how to better live by the cycles of the seasons. I'm a very early-morning person, up before dawn every day, but I've been pondering a shift to a later schedule to better enjoy the long protracted days of summer. I haven't done it yet, and I may not - the sunrise, after all, is still my favorite time of day - but it's a natural inclination, I think, to feel a shift in the body along with the season. Just as we tend to get to bed earlier in winter, when the nights are long and dark, it only seems right to stay up late past the long sunset, and watch the first stars dot the sky.
Long long days, that's summer. Live by the sun, feel by the moon, as they say.
(don't ask me who they is, I saw it on Pinterest)
No comments:
Post a Comment