Raindrops from the storm lingered on petals and fronds and green leaves, tender from their unfolding. As I wandered in the courtyard, beneath the ancient limbs of Grandmother Oak Tree, I felt a keen pull to look closer at the velvety petals of rain-washed flowers with my macro lens.
Recently I commented to a friend that my photography is how I explore life, especially nature. It’s about being present with wildlife, plant life…humans…and learning from them. What is their story? To what depths of inner reflection and awareness can they take me?
It’s easy to overlook the details, to pass by the water droplets suspended on a tiny bug’s back as it tries to climb up the edge of a pansy petal, or miss the beauty that is small in statue but large in substance. But if you get the chance, always….always look closer.
How much grass is in a bit of land eight feet by twenty feet? After three days of intermittent hard-core shoveling, kneeling, sorting and sweating I am no closer to knowing how much sod it takes to cover that much ground but I do know how much fuller my compost bin is after hauling the final remnants of grass from my new garden space.
My friends, the live oaks
I live under live oak trees with very little sunny areas for growing vegetables or sun-loving flowers so the decision to take this small strip of grass and turn it into a place to grow food and flowers seemed the next step in rebelling against the corporate mindset that seduces us into believing we have to purchase our food from a box or can that has been adulterated with toxic chemicals, petroleum-based fertilizers and genetically altered food. The only grass that had to be mowed on my property is now being composted. So I’m saving fuel, creating less carbon emissions and I’m growing food…and food for my soul–flowers.
It was grueling work that was aided by heavy rainfall that softened the soil. There was a window of opportunity that would close once the ground became dry. So hours were spent on my knees listening to song birds, hawks, the neighbor’s chickens and rain drops dripping from branches. My mind relaxed and I sank into earth time. If I tried to rush it seemed little progress was made; however, once I paused and intentionally connected with that slow, steady heartbeat of the planet, it seemed as if the task progressed quicker. Ah….a good lesson.
During the hours of manual labor my mind brought up questions to ponder. Probably the most important was this: What would it be like if we let go of roles we think we should play and simply were present to enJOY relationships? Or jobs? Or places we live? What if we let go of the need to assign a task to ourselves, a reason for being….and simply enJOYed life?
How often do we validate our worth by the role we play? Or think we should play? What if there really are no roles we are asked to act out? What if our ‘value’ simply comes from being present..with ourselves…with others…with the planet….with life! Why do we believe we have to ‘serve a purpose’ to another person? Isn’t just being present enough?
Obviously I spent a LOT of time digging and sorting over the past few days and have pondered many questions. The rhythm of Earth Mother pulled me deeper into my body, into relationship with Her and in the process helped me gain understanding. Perhaps my new little patch of freshly planted soil will bring more than vegetables and flowers. Perhaps my new path to healing and wholeness is garden time.
Today words hanging within my mind and heart don’t need a public platform but rather a safe place to be while the energy behind them gets balanced. So my focus is on flowers and their power to cheer us, heal us and bring joy.
I know I’m paying attention when I see the fine ‘hairs’ on the stems and petals of flowers. Or notice the grains of pollen resting on a petal after being released by a pollinator’s visit or a burst of March wind.
Ready to blossom
I know I’m going slow enough when I see the details of life. For it is there that I realize and become aware of the depth of beauty around me.
University of Texas Arlington photo
Once a little green snake drank from a saucer of water my partner held for it. That moment of caring for such a small creature held such tenderness, such compassion. The details of daily moments, so precious. Such treasures.
Stargazer lily
When I allow myself to look deeper, to see with eyes of a student, nature has so much to share…to teach. Such loveliness to touch.
Orchid faces….always make me smile
Orchids share their unique personalities with the details of their blossoms. Every opportunity I have to photograph them I feel lighter and happier. The faces I see in each blossom bring such joy.
Life is a little softer, a little kinder when I take time to notice the details and embrace the moments to interact with beauty that nature offers. Some of these experiences will remain in my heart throughout my life.
This is NOT representative of this morning’s behavior from my darlings.
I awakened to soft thuds overhead. Cat play on carpet. I had been dreaming of a white vulture soaring overhead and waked in the middle of the dream. I lay there half awake wondering the meaning of such an unfamiliar symbol. Heady thoughts so early in the morning and soon interrupted by the thundering of cats down the stairway.
Gracie practiced her balance beam act on the footboard while Stanley practiced his gymnastic moves above me on the headboard. The hawk screeching outside my home and the combined acrobatics of my cat companions called me to get up and check the weather forecast.
Last night I read where high winds were predicted for today so when it was quiet outside I literally ran to put on my SUP boarding shorts and shirt and was out the door before coffee. I could smell the salt marsh far upriver so the wind announced itself with gentleness, prior to anything more than a whisper. By the time I reached the downriver side of Bemis Bay the ripples began. As I rounded the corner at Washer Woman’s Point, I saw and felt the beginnings of the ‘serious’ wind…but that wasn’t what really caught my attention.
Black vulture near Crystal River, FL
Perched on a cypress tree was a beautiful vulture, wings spread, heart facing the morning sun. Her wing feathers were white and so I remembered the dream. But I had the rest of my four mile paddle to complete and lucky for me, had a downwinder on the way back up river.
My experimental wall garden..the 2 x 4’s will be painted once they are dry
The rest of the day was spent putting together a project I’ve been dreaming of for weeks–designing and building a system to grow veggies and herbs on the east side of my home. Literally…on my home. It’s very sunny there, while the rest of my yard isn’t and the garage gets very hot in the summer so I wanted to install some sort of green wall to see if it would keep my garage from boiling during July and August.
My new bromeliad friends make the courtyard an even happier place
I would rather grow flowers because I simply have a thing for them. But my farmer genes nudge me to try my hand once again at growing food. My dad and grandfather would probably laugh at my vertical garden. And honestly, I bought more flowers—some outrageous bromeliads. I can’t help it. Can’t I live off of beauty? Do I really have to eat?
All through the day of building, possibly cursing at trying to hold 8 foot 2 x 4’s up while screwing them into the wall, attaching the boxes, planting the plants into the boxes….I kept thinking about the white vulture. When I finished my farmer-girl activities I ran upstairs and looked up ‘white vulture’ on my trusty internet search engine.
It is a symbol of the feminine in Egyptian mythology. In Pueblo mythology it is a symbol of restored harmony that had been broken. It is a symbol of the return of the self. (Pause…..and repeat please).
Photo of me probably 17 years ago….
How appropriate. How perfect. Since my father’s illness and death (when I was 21) I have been in a series of relationships with no gap between them. Recently I have done some deep healing as I find myself alone for the first time in 32 years. And I wanted to be alone as I found myself repeating the same old patterns. Sick of myself, I journeyed out on my own to heal. To grow. I couldn’t repeat the familiar behaviors anymore. It was deadening.
At this almost year mark of my time with only me and my baggage, I find myself dreaming of white vultures and realizing that I am discovering who I am…I had never given myself space or time to figure that out and in some ways had remained the wounded young woman throughout my relationships. How appropriate that in my time of conscious healing, the goddess of feminine energy pays me a dreamtime visit.
Self-portrait 2013
After all these years I am finally healing the old wounds. I have no idea where this new-found wholeness will take me but I’m guessing it has something to do with growing flowers or morphing into a vulture….once I figure it out I’ll let you know.
Raindrops from the storm lingered on petals and fronds and green leaves, tender from their unfolding. As I wandered in the courtyard, beneath the ancient limbs of Grandmother Oak Tree, I felt a keen pull to look closer at the velvety petals of rain-washed flowers with my macro lens.
Recently I commented to a friend that my photography is how I explore life, especially nature. It’s about being present with wildlife, plant life…humans…and learning from them. What is their story? To what depths of inner reflection and awareness can they take me?
It’s easy to overlook the details, to pass by the water droplets suspended on a tiny bug’s back as it tries to climb up the edge of a pansy petal, or miss the beauty that is small in statue but large in substance. But if you get the chance, always….always look closer.
