Reflections from the Garden

My garden has been my solace over the years, my place to think and contemplate, to find peace and joy, to experience being solely in the moment. It is my place to meditate and ease my soul. It's also my place to vent; there's nothing like going on a serious weed pulling to expend energy and work out anger and return my inner thoughts to something more calm.

It also is a source of inspiration, a way of experiencing awe at nature and a reminder that just because I haven't seen a particular plant before (the wildlife and the wind bring new plants each year), doesn't mean it is without value.

This past spring I saw the back garden inundated with these odd, gangly prickly plants that the ants loved better than sunflowers. And I contemplated on whether it was intentional (whether it had been in a wildflower mix and I just hadn't seen it before) or if it was a weed that I'd always gotten pulled earlier. I left most of them, removing only what was in the way (in other words, 99% of them stayed!).

The tall greenery amongst the coreopsis.

Like so many things in our lives, we cannot predict what the results of our actions will be, what discoveries we will make when we choose to let what appears in our lives be and grow of its own accord. Will it result in a mess, a nasty weed that overtakes and chokes out all beauty (why, yes, a metaphor for all those whose bitterness festers and chokes out all joy and light)? Or will we instead find that we have allowed a beautiful flower to flourish and thrive?
It blooms, and I have enough to correctly identify it as a sawleaf daisy.

Will it always work out that my choosing to wait until it's bloomed will yield such beauty? No, I know it doesn't; the years I don't get all the tumbleweed plants while they're babies proves that leaving some things be can lead to a right mess on your hands.

But most times, what I've learned is that the things we've been taught to identify as weeds to be pulled from our yards lest they mar the the perfection of a perfectly bladed lawn are in fact beauties to be appreciated and cultivated. I'd far rather have my front garden filled with native Texas wildflowers than have a bermuda lawn. I like the diversity and the constant change. I don't mind the work of clearing out the finished plants so that the new seedlings have a chance to emerge and share their beauty. I don't mind waiting months to see what an unknown seedling will bring.

Another mystery plant, but oh isn't it pretty?
Silver Leaf Nightshade (that most here consider a weed to be removed).
Maximillian sunflower.

Life, if we let it be, is a lot like a carefully watched but not carefully controlled garden. It has lots of surprises in store for us. There are the traditional joys that we expect and the completely unexpected ones, as well, joys that come out of moments, indeed months, of confusion and uncertainty. It's up to each of us to decide what seedlings are the weeds to be ruthlessly pulled out and removed or the wildflowers waiting for a chance to dazzle us.


kathleen said...

"Weeds are flowers too, once you get to know them"~ A.A. Milne

Autism Mom Rising said...

This is exquisite. I must print.

Roger Kulp said...

I love my nightshade.I've had it three years,and if I can ever get the main trunk to stop flopping over,it might make a decent bonsai. It has too many trunks for a cascade,and it doesn't look good as a single trunk.

I ought to send you a picture of my Bradford Pear.After eleven years of trying to decide what to do with it,
I decided to make it into a bunjin.It's getting some nice fall color,never thought I'd be able to do that.And yes,it's the tree I've been able to keep alive the longest.

But what I really came here to do was share this.Note what it says about folate,and especially Vitamin D.Remember how Thelma and Louise had such a big laugh over Vitamin D a while back? Remember how I said I've had rickets for much of my life,and how when I had my initial metabolic tests last year,the doctor said I had the lowest Vitamin D levels he ever saw,in over thirty years of being a doctor? Remember,I had acute meningitis as a baby.

Make sure they get to see this.

Louise said...

Dang it all Roger darlin- your like a pole cat with a sack a scent! Just a swingin your stink like a behind in tha breeze! A toot toot here and a toot toot there!

Darlin, My gal Thelma wrote all about tha importance a vitamin D! Iffen y'all had bothered ta read tha post instead a just lookin for an opportunity ta list your latest medical break through-ya would seen that!
The point a her post Which you so clearly missed - was that some slippery snake oil peddlers was takin that Vitamin D information an persuadin folks ta buy there tannin beds-sayin it would help cure tha autism!
Now darlin, Ya might have a vitamin D deficiency an such-but ya aint lackin in tha dumbass department. Thats for damn true!

Lovely post Miss Kim. I'm sorry I had ta take Mr. Roger ta task here. But tha boy needs a spankin!

KWombles said...

Lovely, Kathleen!

Thanks, AMR! :-)

Roger, I'd love to see a picture of both your nighshade and bradford pear.

Louise is right, though, they wrote about the tanning bed con:

Louise, you don't visit often enough. It's a shame you, T and Mamma H are always so busy there in Stink Creek keeping folks on the somewhat straight and narrow!

Roger Kulp said...

Vitamin D Receptor genes and autism..

Two clues: rare genetic malformations of the vitamin D system

An inborn error of metabolism that causes a rare form of rickets, pseudo-vitamin D deficiency rickets, involves the defective manufacture of activated vitamin D. While no one has assessed afflicted children for signs of autism, these children clearly display autistic markers such as hypotonia (flabby muscles), decreased activity, developmental motor delay, listlessness, and failure to thrive.