"To every woman her own truth and the Goddess within"*
The summer solstice arrived and ended with a myriad of waterfalls. Sounds wonderful? Unfortunately all I could see of the waterfall was the incessant water falling from the skies all day. A little rain on your wedding day is supposed to bring you good luck, thoughts of fertility perhaps, but what would today's deluge mean? Was it washing me away, or washing me clean - stripping away my fears? I do not know . . . I thought I would by now, at the end of an eventful year but no.
I missed the sunrise. I was too tired from an evening spent with family, drinking in the wilderness on my doorstep I never knew. The sun never shone today. So I find myself seeking sun, to warm my skin, to lift my spirits. I should be so happy today. Tomorrow is another day with its own issues. I'm not sure how that makes me feel . . .
I should talk of field orchids, stone circles and banana boots - this week's discoveries. This, and photographs, will follow . . . but not tonight.
Wednesday 22 June 2011
Sunday 12 June 2011
A Garden Full of Weeds
Many things have fallen by the wayside, strewn across my life. What I was so proud of being beautiful and inspirational at the start of last summer has since been neglected. There have been half hearted attempts to breathe life back into it but then winter swept through, seeking to destroy everything in its path.
There has been casualties. Can I bring myself to plant another Californian Lilac, knowing I have lost one for each of the last two winters? Can I go through the heartache again? Nurturing it, loving it. But yet I compromise by starting small to see what has struggled to survive through the snow. Seeds have grown in unexpected places. Had I not been delayed in spring, would I have discarded them as weeds without a thought?
But a weed is just a flower growing where you don't want it, which makes it subjective. The seeds are much loved and new flowers in the wrong place. I should transplant them to where they can thrive and grow. I know this. I know I should plant the new flowers I have bought but abandoned, which are waiting patiently to be loved. But it is the weeds that have reigned supreme since last summer.
And so the year ends as it started. The flowers struggle to turn their faces to bathe in the warm loving sunlight but the weeds have deeper roots and are stronger, reaching further for the sun, strangling the flowers as they grow. As the year closes, I'll strive to keep the weeds at bay to let the flowers be nourished again. But I cannot do it on my own. I need nourishment too.
And please don't even mention the poor tomato plants . . .
There has been casualties. Can I bring myself to plant another Californian Lilac, knowing I have lost one for each of the last two winters? Can I go through the heartache again? Nurturing it, loving it. But yet I compromise by starting small to see what has struggled to survive through the snow. Seeds have grown in unexpected places. Had I not been delayed in spring, would I have discarded them as weeds without a thought?
But a weed is just a flower growing where you don't want it, which makes it subjective. The seeds are much loved and new flowers in the wrong place. I should transplant them to where they can thrive and grow. I know this. I know I should plant the new flowers I have bought but abandoned, which are waiting patiently to be loved. But it is the weeds that have reigned supreme since last summer.
And so the year ends as it started. The flowers struggle to turn their faces to bathe in the warm loving sunlight but the weeds have deeper roots and are stronger, reaching further for the sun, strangling the flowers as they grow. As the year closes, I'll strive to keep the weeds at bay to let the flowers be nourished again. But I cannot do it on my own. I need nourishment too.
And please don't even mention the poor tomato plants . . .
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