Category Archives: garden

Beans


thoreau’s beans, originally uploaded by pilgrimgirl.

Me, Getting a Taste of History

I first read Walden when I was in high school. I was immediately enchanted with the leisurely style of Thoreay’s writing and I’m sure that I was more than a little infatuated with the man himself. I pictured myself his partner, roaming the forest, taking moonlit dips in Walden Pond, growing beans. So romantic, so idealistic. So peaceful and simple.

While we were in Concord we visited Thoreau’s pond and cabin and the environs. I felt a thrum of pleasure as my body felt so at home. And it renewed my fantasy to someday live an experiment like his.

From Chapter 7 of Walden, “The Bean-Field”:

“I came to love my rows, my beans, though so many more than I wanted. They attached me to the earth, and so I got strength like Antæus. But why should I raise them? Only Heaven knows. This was my curious labor all summer — to make this portion of the earth’s surface, which had yielded only cinquefoil, blackberries, johnswort, and the like, before, sweet wild fruits and pleasant flowers, produce instead this pulse. What shall I learn of beans or beans of me? I cherish them, I hoe them, early and late I have an eye to them; and this is my day’s work….
We are wont to forget that the sun looks on our cultivated fields and on the prairies and forests without distinction. They all reflect and absorb his rays alike, and the former make but a small part of the glorious picture which he beholds in his daily course. In his view the earth is all equally cultivated like a garden. Therefore we should receive the benefit of his light and heat with a corresponding trust and magnanimity. What though I value the seed of these beans, and harvest that in the fall of the year? … These beans have results which are not harvested by me. Do they not grow for woodchucks partly? The ear of wheat should not be the only hope of the husbandman; its kernel or grain is not all that it bears. How, then, can our harvest fail? Shall I not rejoice also at the abundance of the weeds whose seeds are the granary of the birds? It matters little comparatively whether the fields fill the farmer’s barns. The true husbandman will cease from anxiety, as the squirrels manifest no concern whether the woods will bear chestnuts this year or not, and finish his labor with every day, relinquishing all claim to the produce of his fields, and sacrificing in his mind not only his first but his last fruits also.

And from the Conclusion of Walden, a quotation that bears frequent pondering:

I learned this, at least, by my experiment: that if one advances confidently in the direction of h[er] dreams, and endeavors to live the life which [s]he has imagined, [s]he will meet with a success unexpected in common hours. [S]he will put some things behind, will pass an invisible boundary; new, universal, and more liberal laws will begin to establish themselves around and within h[er]; or the old laws be expanded, and interpreted in h[er] favor in a more liberal sense, and [s]he will live with the license of a higher order of beings. In proportion as [s]he simplifies h[er] life, the laws of the universe will appear less complex, and solitude will not be solitude, nor poverty poverty, nor weakness weakness. If you have built castles in the air, your work need not be lost; that is where they should be. Now put the foundations under them.

do you believe?


begonia, originally uploaded by pilgrimgirl.

“It’s frightfully difficult to know much about the fairies, and almost the the only thing known for certain is that there are fairies wherever there are children. Long ago children were forbidden the Gardens, and at that time there was not a fairy in the place ; then the children were admitted, and the fairies came trooping in that very evening, they can’t resist following the children, but you seldom see them, partly because they live in the daytime behind the railings, where you are not allowed to go, and also partly because they are so cunning. They are not a bit cunning after Lock-out, but until Lock-out, my word !”

Peter Pan in Kensington Gardens. London, Hodder & Stoughton, 1906.
Note: I copied this quotation from this delightful post at Le Fumoir…

There is a magical time in my garden each night as the sun sets behind the hills and the solar lights along my main pathway start to twinkle. It’s a time of day that I generally find myself chatting with friends rather than gardening. It’s a time for contemplation and not for work. 🙂

So in the gloaming a few weeks ago I was chatting with a friend and her young daughter and when the lights came on, I mentioned that it was now “fairy time” in the garden. Such times remind me of when my kids were littler and the joy they had in finding all of the nooks & crannies of the garden where the ‘fairies’ lived. Oddly, though, I don’t think my kids really believed in fairies. It was more of a game for us….a way of acknowledging the magic and creativity of the garden. At least that’s what I tell myself now.

I didn’t foster my children’s belief in Santa or the Easter Bunny or the Tooth Fairy. Yes, the kids would get some money under their pillow after they lost a tooth, but it was more of a ritual than a practice in deception. And at Christmastime I often put gifts under the tree with only a “To” on the tag and no “From.” Sometimes the kids said this meant these gifts were from Santa. I don’t think I purposefully encouraged this belief, but it was just there given the cultural milieu in which they were raised. And at Easter we often gave little treats and hid colored eggs, but the Easter Bunny part of the holiday was just an excuse for a little fun, much as in the dress-up part of Halloween.

So now I wonder why I still speak of fairies? Why did that comment so easily pop out of my mouth at dusk? Why do I feel the need to linger and relish the transition from night to day, the “fairytime,” in my garden?

I believe it’s because I use the image of the ‘fairy’ as a kind of cultural shorthand. The notion of little sprites darting around in the plants expresses my feelings about the mystical presence of my garden: the flowers that spring up in unintended spaces, the persistence of some plants against all odds, the continued ‘unexpected’ of each visit to my “Secret Garden” space.

Just as I still enjoy myths and fairytales and ripping-good yarns, I still speak of fairies. I think I still believe in them, too. Not of the Disney/ Tinkerbell variety, but as embodiments of the healing, enlivening energy that surrounds my flowers & plants.

What about you? Do you believe in fairies?

starflower


starflower, originally uploaded by pilgrimgirl.

From a set of photos that I snapped at an organic garden/farm in Concord.

All Things Live
All Things live;
The innermost thoughts
Of a [wo]man’s soul
Walk the highway
Of the Universe,
And are seen
By all the pilgrims,
Who have gone before.
~Opal Whiteley

early morning


close, originally uploaded by pilgrimgirl.

While I was traveling in SLC, I often arose early in the morning to get to the Sunstone Symposium. I got my batteries charged by snapping photos before driving downtown. This was a pretty flower in my sister’s yard, shown here in the morning light.

leaning into the light


mini roses, originally uploaded by pilgrimgirl.

Photo: Two small pale pink roses, wet with drops of water.

How is one to live a moral and compassionate existence when one finds darkness not only in one’s culture but within oneself? There are simply no answers to some of the great pressing questions. You continue to live them out, making your life a worthy expression of leaning into the light.
~Barry Lopez, Arctic Dreams

Last night I had the strangest dream (queue 80s music now)…
I was in the garden and it was early dusk. We were all enjoying the warmth and joy of the evening as we do on a regular basis. But then it got very dark very fast and we looked up and realized that night was coming on like a huge storm (can night do that?). The moon was full and dark, with clouds covering it. It wasn’t the large moon that I am used to enjoying on evenings in the garden. I felt afraid.

I woke up early, perhaps prematurely, and had a big glass of water and decided to go back to sleep. I returned to my garden in my dreams. I was sitting around the table with my family enjoying the evening again. Only this time a huge group of people from our former church life–the ‘leaders’ rather than our friends–came by and were peering over our fence. I felt threatened and defensive.

I woke again and snuggled into John’s shoulder and felt safe. Then I got up (for the final time) and enjoyed a cup of Wedding Imperial tea and a generous slice of apricot cake.

All is right in the world again.

tasty


purple beans, originally uploaded by pilgrimgirl.

Last night I made a yummy steamed-bean salad with a mix of these funky purple-podded beans (from Seeds of Change–love them!) and a handful of green beans. What tasty fun!

This is my first year with bean success. In years past I’ve tried growing bush beans and the bugs ate them all. Also tried pole beans last year but they were mowed down by a rogue bunny. So this year I sowed both purple and garden-variety-green pole beans. I’ve discovered that the purple-podded beans grow earlier, faster, and are more hardy in my garden microclimate (in other words, I am so growing them again!). The kids made a darling teepee with castoff wood poles for growing the beans on. It is pretty cute and they are so proud of *their* beans.

feelin’ blue-ish


blue stripey, originally uploaded by pilgrimgirl.

A blue flower for you (especially Sara, whose blue morning glory flower just blew me away this morning….)

We were up late last night with friends. I was tempted to say we were up too late, but is there ever a too late when you are having just too much fun to come home? (Yes, my friends, Apples to Apples is addictive!)

So we had school and work today even though yesterday was a holiday. The kiddoes are a bit testy. And I am a bit less patient with their testiness.

But it was well worth it. 🙂

utmost beauty…


pinkish, originally uploaded by pilgrimgirl.

A Baha’i prayer, from a comment on John’s blog:

O God! Educate these children. These children are the plants of Thine orchard, the flowers of Thy meadow, the roses of Thy garden. Let Thy rain fall upon them; let the Sun of Reality shine upon them with Thy love. Let Thy breeze refresh them in order that they may be trained, grow and develop, and appear in the utmost beauty. Thou art the Giver. Thou art the Compassionate.

– `Abdu’l-Bahá

I will love the light…


shasta, originally uploaded by pilgrimgirl.

I will love the light for it shows me the way.
Yet I will endure the darkness for it shows me the stars.
~Og Mandino

This weekend we watched Ratatouille. Fun. Well-written, well-crafted. Almost forgot for a moment that it WAS A MOVIE ABOUT A RAT. Almost.

The night before the movie I had a run-in with an ROUSS (Rodent of Unusual Size) on my front porch. Thinking it was just a charming little raccoon that was fiddling with the garbage bag that I’d inadvertently left on the stoop, I peeked out the trough the screen door to the see the little critter. Instead I found a fully-opened (previously knotted shut) grocery bag with a ginormous skin tail and hindquarters hanging out of it. Not a rat, it was just a few times worse: a POSSUM. Ugh.

What followed, for me, was part panic attack, part meltdown. I wish I could understand why I react the way I do to such creatures. But it was like the whole universe had suddenly gone dark and sucked me into a whole and the only thing that was in that hole with me was my nemesis Mr. ROUSS. And he was in attack mode.

I mean, I knew that the possum was on one side of that screen door and I was on the other. I knew I had my John and two kitties between me and the ROUSS. I knew that the varmint was way more interested in my trash than in me. But for about 3 minutes all of those rational thoughts were gone and all I could hardly breathe, much less be rational about the fact that on the porch, where I had been standing just a few moments before when I walked home (in the dark) from my neighbor’s home, was a RODENT. And I just wasn’t sure that I would ever be able to exit my house or live a normal life. Because RODENTS exist in this world and I would never escape from them again.

Deep breath. Sigh.

So I went to see the ratflick anyways and I was mostly okay. My breath got a little shallow when the colony exploded out of the farmhouse ceiling. But other than that the RAT-ness of the film was abstracted and cute enough for me that I was a-ok.

Hmmmmm…..but Ellycat has been spending a lot of time with me out of doors ever since.

PS: Still haven’t forgiven Pixar for naming the rat “Remy”…..

lovin’ these


lantana orange, originally uploaded by pilgrimgirl.

My lantana plants are such a source of joy. I have three now: purple, yellow-orange and red. I just love the ways their colors spread and change as they open their series of petals. Truly a burst of sun each time I gaze on them. 🙂

The windows of my soul I throw
Wide open to the sun.
~John Greenleaf Whittier