Today I was out in the garden to weed a little, but mostly to tend and plant.
It is a pretty wild scene out there. We have had a lot of rain in the past nine months and now we are having a lot of sun. Spring was dark and wet and also very nurturing to the green earth.
The garden is in transformation. I know I have written this before a number of times. But this year something has happened to my wild garden. For the past three or four years, the garden has been content to be wild and because I am following the intuitive path of gardening, I have been content to let it. I have learned to not make excuses for so many weeds and grasses. I have learned to love the grasses, the blackberries, the cleavers trailing all over….
Then this year in the beginning of spring something appeared to be awakening out there. I began to have a desire to grow more medicinal herbs, I could see the hugel beds brimming to plants.
And so I have begun planting some little seedling plants, planting a few medicinal herbs. Going slow. My garden is becoming a wild-cultivated garden.
Well, this seems very good and nice. But to be perfectly honest, it feels very chaotic to me. Where I once was content with the wild everything out there and just letting it do it wild thing, I have become a bit anxious in this new stage.
The wild grasses, though I love them so much, want to give way to other plants. Plants like cultivated roses, meadowsweet, monarda, skullcap, lavender, crone wort, pedicularis, yarrow….keep entering my vision. And also, words like, “get going”, let’s do it”, “what are you waiting for?”, “don’t wait too long”. It feels a bit like a bubbling cauldron that is about to boil over.
And in its best moments, I feel the contentment of the garden, continuing to reveal itself to me. And as I spend time in the garden, I see the beauty of the intertwined plants, so green, growing with each other. And as I listen into the expanded realm of the plants, I can hear the many voices of the plants in the garden, teaching me, encouraging me to keep going through this very chaotic time of transformation.
Perhaps it is like the chrysalis stage of the butterfly. I am turning into murky goo so that I can continue to be an intuitive gardener, a teacher of shamanic herbalism and the humble servant of the earth.
May it be in Beauty.