Thoughts at the Beginning of the Year
I can’t imagine any gardener in the Northern hemisphere liking winter. We usually retreat in comfort, to enjoy thick blankets and hot beverages in front of a fire, and refuse to look out the window until the trees leaf out, brooding about adding another year on top of the ever-growing pile behind us.
To the natural world, the passing of time means nothing. Individual plants grow old and die like any living thing, but their collective being remains ageless.
It just occurred to me I’ve tended to my garden for almost twenty years, and I feel it hasn’t changed at all. It’s a strange vicarious experience of immortality, a bittersweet understanding living forever is always a blessing, never a curse.
One looks at life differently when the horizon is so far into the distance, and one both squanders and enjoys life more.
There will always be another chance, which one has the luxury to wait for, another perfect moment, circumstance, development. That’s what gardens do and they never have to rush. I’m jealous.




Previous Post
Next Post




