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| Peach Blossoms in March |
I
took up gardening, five seasons ago, not lured by a romantic desire for posies
and roses.
My
desire was a necessity – I had to eat.
The
writing job that had recruited and moved me from the East Coast to Northern
California had evaporated after a scant three months instead of the promised
five years until the project’s completion.
In
the beginning of 2009, as the world’s economy crumbled finding another full-time
job at any salary, much less the six-figure one I had enjoyed for the briefest
of time was impossible.
Having
been a freelancer for several years prior, I was fortunate my thriftiness was
well established.
Now
the game of survival hit the major leagues. No unemployment insurance cushioned
my search for work –my far from hefty savings paid for everything.
Looking
at my small backyard under a cold March drizzle, I decided to lose
my virgin status as a gardener.
The
ground, hard and unyielding under my rather crude tools, reflected my rocky search
for employment. Then the typical late winter rain came. With the ground growing muddy, I was
unwilling to dirty my clothes, requiring money to clean.
A
brilliant thought hit me.
My
winter parka needed washing. Stripping down to my underwear I put on the parka
and let streams of laundry liquid pour down from the shoulders.
Back outside I went to hack sloppy chunks of mud with a fury.
After
an hour the coat was clean, there was a cleared plot and my tears of fear were washed
away by rain and physical work.
In
this its fifth year, my garden now produces vegetables year-round with kale and
Swiss chard in the winter, lettuce in the spring and everything from apricots,
tomatoes and peppers harvested in the summer to fresh oranges at Thanksgiving.
Money
is still scarce, but I can relax knowing healthy food is just a quick walk
away,
Now,
my garden is shared with several generations of a feral cat family, crafty
squirrels, and a hummingbird that likes to dive bomb me under the peach tree.
It
is my refuge of peace – a place where I can meditate, remember loved ones who
have passed and reflect on the new and positive aspects to bring to my life..
Seeing
thin verdant coils of new life push out of dirt, brings me hope,
Lately,
when someone I know has suffered a loss, I send a packet of vegetable seeds. Lettuce, with its high success rate, is my usual choice.
I
wish the grief-stricken too would find a place, if only a pot on a sunny balcony, to witness life's continuation and feel comfort in its power.
