…what could I do but laugh and go?

Tonight found me home alone, standing at the kitchen sink, peeling carrots in to the bowl I use for compostable materials. My go-to, easy meal for one: carrots, cauliflower and hummus. A thousand times a day I am at the kitchen sink, glancing out the large window at the garden space just beyond the pane. The 20+ year old fig tree is recovering nicely from the deep freeze of February 2021. Behind the fig tree, against the wooden fence, is an old wrought iron headboard, someday a trellis for the small raspberry that is planted at its base. To the side, an old metal chair. Morning glory vines would be precious scrambling up the chair, but so far that hasn’t happened. An old statue sits on the chair, my Suzie Sells Seashells by the Seashore statue. All together, it is a fabulous vintage vignette. How do I like my garden accessories? Old, old and old, thankyouverymuch. The chippy white is perfectly chippy white, in sharp contrast to the deep green of the fig leaves. And that spot of bright yellow? A stunning daylily, which today graced my garden with two perfectly placed blossoms. Which brings me back to peeling carrots and a glance out the window. I meant to do my work today. The words popped up from my mental file of memorized poems. I meant to make supper tonight. But a daylily called out to me. So what could I do but laugh and go? Carrots can wait another hour. The perfect lighting. The perfect blossoms. These moments don’t come around just any day. I am reminded that I need to live more in the present moment, enjoy these moments right before my eyes, not to let my mind rush ahead to tomorrow’s troubles or perceived troubles.

I Meant To Do My Work Today

I meant to do my work today – but a brown bird sang in the apple tree, and a butterfly flitted across the field, and all the leaves were calling me. And the winds went sighing over the land, tossing grasses to and fro, and a rainbow held out its shining hand – so what could I do but laugh and go? ~ by Richard Le Gallienne

My morning ritual consists of making a fresh glass of ice tea and taking a stroll about the garden. My rescued shelter mutt, Princess Leia, knows the routine. She pushes past me to get out the back door first, eager to make sure the garden is secure and no squirrels, bunnies or neighborhood cats are about. My evening garden strolls, however, are more often about chores. What needs watered? What area needs some attention, aka weeding? I must remember to toss aside chores and carrots and pick up my camera and simply… go outside and enjoy the garden. Enjoy this moment right here, right now. The evening lighting is enchanting, don’t you think?

No garden stroll is complete without stopping under the native buttonbush, currently in full bloom. The bees are still hard at work, but now in the evening hours they are joined by several moths. The bees pay me no attention, buzzing all about. The moths are more skittish, the slightest movement sends them fluttering off. But if one stays perfectly still, they return and land just inches away.

The garden by evening light is serene, soothing away the day’s troubles. I must remember this and set aside chores and carrots more often.

All photographs taken around 7:30 p.m. on June 7th, 2023, in my Southern Denton County, Texas, garden. Zone 8a.