WINTER STORM

 


 The snowstorm that started the month of December was a two day maelstrom. The snow swirled in the wind, falling in large clumps and then changing to blowing snow. The blowing snow signals the shifting and mercurial winds, which shake the trees and the garden plants. Winds and the snow are products of a cold temperature usually below 32 degrees Fahrenheit.
    As the snow fell, I watched the snow falling on my garden, I saw the wind buffet my garden, and I felt the cold air creeping in through the cracks of my old house. I entered my winter garden room, where I had relocated plants from my garden so that they could avoid the wind and the snow. I looked around the room. In one corner by the heating vent, I had located the two avocado trees. One tree was about 9 feet high, and the other tree was about was about 6 feet high. Next to them was a plant from our friend, Stella, so we called it the Stella. Along the side wall opposite the windows, were pots of mint plants, pepper plants, money tree plant, kale plants, and Kaboca squash. Wedged in a niche close to the window was a kohlrabi and a Kaboca squash. Then between the door and the desk was a kale plant.
    As I surveyed the winter garden room, I saw the snow blowing outside the windows. I inspected each plant carefully. The large avocado tree had a crown of leaves close to the ceiling, and the leaves were green and brown. Hmm, I thought, these leaves seem to be doing well, so it must be finding the right heat close to the ceiling. The shorter avocado tree was losing its leaves, which were turning black. here at the 5 foot level, the air was still too cold for these leaves. Yet, there was another avocado tree rising from the soil. The pot was deeper for this avocado tree, so maybe this is the reason a new tree is growing the leaves are turning black. As I moved around the room, I saw that most of the plants were resting. Although a mint plant which received some winter sunlight from the window was growing vigorously. Behind it a Kaboca squash plant was also growing new shoots.
    Was I right to move these plants indoors? Did I need to move these plants indoors, when plants had a natural habit of surviving winters? Was I being too careful with these plants? Was I trying too hard to protect my plants? I struggled with these questions in this room, as the snow fell and swirled outside the windows.
    I took a deep breath. I don’t know if I could answer these questions with scientific explanations. The only answer I could give was that my love for these plants was the reason they were here in this winter garden room. I wanted them to survive because they were important to me. I was loving them because they gave me so much joy. In this joy, I took faith in my choice. But only time would tell if in the spring they would renew again.
    In the meanwhile, these plants and trees were in this winter garden room as the winter snow storm raged outside the windows. I watched the snow falling and falling, and I was sharing this moment with these plants in this room while the snow fell outside.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

FROM KAKI TO PERSIMMON

Image
         Although the Persimmon is a global fruit, I had never eaten persimmon in my childhood. The first time I recall seeing a persimmon fruit was not in the supermarket but on the ground in Italy, after having fallen off a tree. I was curious what this orange fruit that was rotting on the ground in front of me was: the answer was Kaki.     The Italian word Kaki was derived from the Japanese word Gaki, so that the word itself creates a historical record of the origin of the fruit. However, the Kaki or Persimmon is native to Japan, China, Korea, Burma and Nepal. Yet, somehow the Japanese word is the word that jumped to Italian. Yet, the word Kaki did not jump to English. Instead Kaki becomes Persimmon, which is derived from the Algonquian word for dried fruit, which is derived from the American variety of persimmon.     I learned the word kaki, though I did not eat kaki or persimmon until 15 years later. At that time in Italy, I knew of the kaki as a fruit that grew on a tree in a pub
Read more

THE MANY ROOTS OF THE GARDEN

Image
         I envisioned the garden. I sowed the seeds of the garden. I watered the garden. I harvested the garden. The garden was my hands, built from my intention that fueled my energy to create and form. But more than that, the garden involves the many moments beyond the designing of the garden, and sowing the seeds, for the garden also involves when the sun catches then garden during the day, or when the rain falls on the garden, or when I walk in the garden looking at the flowers and the stems and the soil. All of these add to my original idea of the garden. From my original creation of a garden, I created infinite possibilities involving those moments of the garden within the garden and linked to the garden.     In my heart, I decided to grow vegetables, even though I had never grown vegetables before. Instead of seeing the space in my backyard as the site of my garden, I looked at other sites always seeking the spot for the garden. Then  I listened to the voice of my loved one, and
Read more

SEEDING THE GARDEN

Image
    Now that I had planted the seeds according to a design of square footing and height guidelines, I became the expectant observer waiting and watching for the sprouts to break the surface and grow. I was now on nature time.     Nature time is the organic cycle of day and night, sun and rain. These cycles have their own sense of intention and presence. These cycles are reflected in each seed, in which each is endowed with the intention to fulfill its mission to grow and prosper. The radish seed becomes a radish. The fennel seed becomes a fennel. The chard seed becomes a chard. Each seed also has its presence. This presence infuses each seed with a connection to the universal consciousness, so that each seed interacts with soil and sun, wind and rain.     In participating in gardening, I became intertwined with the presence of each seed that I planted. My participation seemed to focus on the food that each seed would become, so that I was aware of the presence but I was not in tune wit
Read more