From within a garden gate…

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gardening in the rain2

I am hopeful and ready to cultivate something verdant and lush,  a wonderful secret garden, a tonic for a feeling of well-being and happiness wherein the garden fence I can be a caretaker of living things and feel at home, a place out under the sky where the nameless meadowy wild flowers and grasses thrive along side vines of berries, succulent sedums, herbs, foxglove, sturdy fruit trees.  All together keeping time of the seasons together under the showers, and the comforting shade skips around in a merry frolic with the suns rays.     In wet months miners lettuce explodes in edible clusters,  and somewhere near,  maybe a lucky mushroom pops up…

“Weeds are flowers too, once you get to know them.”  A. A. Milne

Foraging about in a garden, a secret garden, the kind only a few people visit (namely myself) … with a lovely and nice gate to keep the world out and the magic in. Garden gates utterly fascinate me right now. Here is our garden gate from five years ago . . .

garden gate 2015

The garden is  like a favorite room in a house.  In mornings of April through October there’s me holding a watering hose in one hand and cup of coffee in the other, with knitting bag slung across my shoulders. I am dreaming a thriving green oasis from within my Charcoal Forest, and garden with walls of pink jasmine (just planted, six plants!) to vine and cover the lower fence, and shield from vision the blackest of burn,  and the apple trees trying to shake off the scorched leaves of last Autumn’s wildfire as their new leaves are determined to emerge soon,  very soon, they must, because I just see them in my mind!

“Flowers are restful to look at. They have neither emotions nor conflicts.” Sigmund Freud

A place to go, to work hard and get dirt beneath my nails, a  place where  the soul meets life, and the worries of the world are forgotten. My thoughts these days are of knitting, and of a garden with knitting trail made new.   

17 thoughts on “From within a garden gate…”

    • Hello, and thank you. Its just the post trauma of the wildfire, and I’m not alone, the community has quite a number of us. But, soon I will be back up in the hills, so watch this space! xx

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  3. Dear Jen, if you are at all concerned about your mental health please go visit your family Dr. I had a nervous breakdown. I know how hard it is to ask for help. There is a lot we can do to help ourselves (diet, exercise etc) but sometimes it’s just not enough. It isn’t a sign of weakness, instead it is a sign of chemical imbalance.
    Sending love and hugs, Tracey xx 😚❤

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    • Tracey, please read the ‘ edit in ‘ I just added at bottom of post ~ a cheerful event which has me in a fine mood. No worries, it’s not a real nervous disorder, more the very expected post-traumatic stuff that goes with being displaced from the wildfire, but I think things will be improving sooner than later, as our new Tiny House should be up in the woods by this time next month. I’m okay, and thank you! xxx

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  5. Happy gardening Girly! My own experience of trauma teaches me, moment by moment, the importance of simplicity. May your garden grow into a powerful positive metaphor for the churning, tidal chaotic spiral that is post-trauma. And, once verdant and mad and full of buzzing life, may it return some resilience.
    Cheers

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  6. A few months prior to the wildfires a good friend introduced me to a woman who created a woodland on 3 desolate acres in the west of Ireland, Bealtaine Cottage (have I told this story already?) I was so inspired I started planting… then the fires came. We were fortunate to be able to return during the fires, I went into the garden, put on a mask and watered. Now, to quote Colette O’Neil… I “plant as though my life depends on it, because it does.”
    The garden is a healing place. Blessings on you and yours, Jen.

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