Swan Sanctuary

Creating habitats is a passion of mine. Setting out the birdbath and erecting the bird feeders is generally the first thing I do when moving into a new place. I was concerned that, due to the new development and mostly sterile yards, it could take weeks before the birds discovered the feeders I put up for them. I was delighted when no more than a couple of hours after getting the feeders set up, a Brewer’s blackbird appeared at the ground feeder. Early the next morning, a male house finch was partaking of the black oil sunflower seed and announcing his find to others. By the following morning, no less than seven house finches were at the feeder. Robins, too, have been appreciative of the water that I provide; and they usually find an insect meal while they are visiting the yard.

I pulled by hand, all of the weeds in the garden space prior to planting it. I have learned from experience that simply digging them under and turning grass upside down, then covering them with layers of cardboard and mulch, is not enough to deter them from regrowing. It was better in the long run, I decided, to nip that problem in the bud. I should explain that I always do no-till, sustainable gardening, trying to disturb the soil as little as possible. Naturally, weed seeds can still germinate on top, but they will be small and easy to pull. I will need to stay ahead of the bindweed, which is so prevalent here, since its roots descend to about twenty feet underground. I amended the soil and now I have finally been able to put some plants in the ground. It is late June and too late to plant many of the things that I would like to; however, in another six weeks or so, I can begin planning for a fall garden. There are many flowers that can be sown in the fall for bloom the next spring, so I will not be deterred. I am already thinking about where I can plant spring blooming bulbs in the fall, which is also the best time to plant garlic.

Summer was so reluctant to arrive here that seedlings I started indoors on the 4th of April, still barely have their first set of true leaves. We have finally had a few truly summer-like days of temperatures in the 80’s and now that I have at long last been able to get them in the ground, they can begin to thrive. I am counting on the herbs that I began from seed the previous year and brought with me, tol bring some pollinators and beneficial insects into this space that was mostly barren when I arrived. I did see a tiger swallowtail flit briefly by one day, before anything was blooming, so hopefully, the parsley will soon take off and offer them what they need. For now, I must be patient and allow Nature to restore this small space in her own time. I must be a patient gardener.

I have been putting in a garden for my daughter and therefore, managed to write only one blog last week. I will get back on track writing now, on Mondays and Thursdays, and sharing with you my adventures in the garden.

My daughter’s yard is small and narrow – a kind of suburbia setting in a small, rural town. Her house, unfortunately, is a duplex; and disappointingly, it is on the north rather than the south, so sunlight is limited. The back yard is encased by a white plastic fence, as are all of the other yards on the street and on the street to the west. I do not mind a challenge; however, and I choose to see the possibilities rather than the limitations in this small space. There is an alley behind the back yard, which will provide extra growing space, perhaps for some evergreens, which in turn will provide a much needed windbreak.

A few weeks ago I implemented a small landscaping project next to her front walk. The front yard is extremely narrow, providing only about six feet where it then joins that of the neighboring duplex. I planted three dwarf Alberta spruce, which will grow no taller than six feet; and two Mugo pine shrubs, which will achieve only three by three feet in size. It has added some much needed curb appeal; and the little trees are already thriving due to the recent, and very rare, abundance of rain that we had last week.

Little by little, I hope to put into practise many of the permaculture concepts that I have come to understand. So much of the precious rain was lost as it poured out into the street, so I will integrate rain harvesting into the garden. I will, as always, keep a compost pile constantly cooking. While there is not enough space to plant a food forest, I hope to include at least a couple of fruit trees, as well as fruiting shrubs and possibly grapes. This will be for human enjoyment and also for the birds. Half of the back yard has been covered with a concrete slab – a perfect place to build, if not an actual greenhouse, at least a sunroom that can be utilized on cold winter days. I have been blessed with a creative mind, with which despite the limitations this outdoor space poses, I will transform my daughter’s property into a mini-paradise.

As I am writing this, we are only 48 hours away from Summer Solstice, or Midsummer, the longest day of the year. It is a bittersweet time for me because while it marks the first day of summer, it also means the days will begin growing shorter again. In more ancient times, it marked the midway point between planting and harvesting. The calendar year was divided into quarters and cross-quarters, which reflected the natural progression of the seasons. Lughnasadh (31 July/1 August) falls in between Summer Solstice and Autumn Equinox (21-22 September.) Samhain (31 October/1 November,) or All Hallow’s Eve, is the midpoint between the beginning of Autumn Equinox and Winter Solstice, which is followed by Imbolc (1-2 February.) Beltane (30 April/1 May) lies at the halfway point between Spring Equinox and Summer Solstice (20-23 June.), These are referred to as cross-quarters, thus dividing the year into eight equal periods.

Most modern holidays, as we know them, have been borrowed and tweaked by Christianity, but all were derived from ancient Celtic festivals. Although we have no comparable celebration for Summer Solstice here in the U.S., today (Juneteenth) is a celebration of the independence of African slaves. July 4th is a celebration of our country’s independence from England. Sadly, due to industrialized farming and the abundance of food year round, we have no celebration that coincides with Lughnasadh, a time when new wheat was harvested. Neither do we have a modern holiday to mark the Autumn Equinox. We have Halloween, which coincides with Samhain. Winter Solstice is now celebrated as Christmas, Groundhogs Day, instead of Imbolc, Easter in place of Spring Equinox, and May Day replaces Beltane.

I stopped celebrating the modern holidays years ago, mainly because of the commercialism and the mass production of cheap plastic crap that ends up in landfills. We have lost the sacred rituals and festivals that honored the seasons and the cycles of life. We have lost our connection with Nature. We need to return to our “roots” – our oneness with Earth and with all Life.

Most people, it seems, are afraid of dying. Those who have been conditioned by religious dogma are especially fearful about the end of their lives. You often hear them say that their lives have been “saved;” but whether by Jesus or by medical “miracles,” the truth is that no life can be saved. Eckhart Tolle tells us that we do not have a life to lose. We are Life itself. Unlike these people, I have never feared death. I patiently look forward to it, for I feel that at that time, I will at last be allowed to go home.

People who live in cities, completely out of touch with Nature, fear being alone in the wilderness. They fear wild animals when there is usually nothing to fear. Most wild species avoid humans. We are, after all, the most dangerous predator on the planet. I; however, feel safest in a forest, surrounded by trees and songbirds. In a city, in a crowd, among buildings, traffic, and noise, I am terrified.

I have observed that there are many people who cannot bear to be alone and cannot bear the silence. Unlike them, I crave the quiet and I need the sacred silence like a fish needs water.

My hermetic life has allowed me to observe from a distance. My heart breaks every day from the pain my fellow humans have inflicted on other species. I weep for our planet and for the desecration that has been done to her. I am afraid, not of dying, but of living in a world that is consumed by selfishness and greed. This changed world of artificial intelligence and non-binary individuals and people who are clueless about the natural world, frightens me. I watch our country being torn apart by hate, promoted by Donald Trump, and those whose minds he has managed to manipulate. He is a very sick man. I see the possibility of a civil war, the crumbling of peace in a world that has lost its mind. I am afraid of living in a world filled with so many uncertainties.

I managed to write only one blog last week, instead of the usual two on Monday and Wednesday. I was busy implementing a landscaping project for my youngest daughter, for her birthday. I did this amidst unpacking and organizing from my recent move, which was not the move I had planned.

Eckhart Tolle tells us that we must “surrender to what is.” We can either (1) accept, (2) try to change, or (3) leave an unacceptable situation. I came to this windy, unawakened town of 3,600 people nearly five years ago. I needed a quiet place to finish writing Question Everything. Once I had accomplished that, I too, was finished with this inhospitable place; but each time that I tried to leave I was tossed back, like a ball attached to a paddle by a string.

A few weeks ago I wrote that I had planned to return to the area of my childhood, in southwest Colorado. Only three days before my scheduled move; however, I received three phone calls – one from my youngest daughter who lives here, one from my son-in-law who lives with my oldest daughter in Cotopaxi, Colorado, and one from my girls’ father (my ex-husband) who lives in Denver. They each adamantly expressed to me that I should abandon the idea of moving back to Colorado, listing numerous reasons why I shouldn’t go there. This was apparently a sign from the Universe. This is where Tolle’s wisdom slapped me in the face. “Do not argue with what is.” “Surrender.” “Accept the unacceptable.”

Ironically, it seems that my prayers have been answered. I have prayed for months now, to be guided to where I could do the most good. I have been “putting my affairs in order” and drawn up a will. When you have passed seventy years of age, you must begin to abandon some of your dreams. At sixty years, you could still hold out for a few of them; but now, clearly it is too late.

My youngest daughter owns a large house here in Wheatland, but since her transfer to the Torrington PD she is seldom here. Her yard and her house are in dire need of TLC. Her three cats and her German Shepherd are often neglected. Without a doubt, she needs my help – and my skills.

This is not the life I had planned; nor is it the dream I had dreamed. It is what it is. I accept it. I surrender.

My daughters, and many other people, have not understood my passion for gardening. This; however, is not difficult to understand for those who follow their own passions. A musician, for example, is happiest when he is creating music. An artist is compelled to create outwardly, the beauty she sees within her own imagination. A writer must write. An actor must act. A caregiver must care for others and a teacher delights in teaching. An athlete must hone his skills.

I recently explained to my youngest daughter, who works in law enforcement, that her passion is not different from mine. She spends her free time watching television about fighting crime. I am drawn to garden centers like a bee to a flower. My library of gardening books and books on ecology continues to grow. I see an empty space and I immediately begin to imagine its possibilities. I see a weed (a plant growing in the wrong place) and I want to pull it. I cannot keep my hands out of the “dirt,” both outside and the soil in which my numerous houseplants are growing. And, just like a plant, I crave sunlight and water. Rain is my friend, but cold and wind are not welcome in my world.

Some people recognize their passion at an early age. I was well into my thirties before I began to understand the emptiness and craving that had lived inside of me for years – a need to be outside, surrounded by green, growing things and wildlife. I see others struggling, meandering through their lives directionless and lost. Modern society does not value or nurture individuality; but rather suggests that one’s life should be devoted to the pursuit of acquiring money and saving for retirement. It has been said that money cannot by love; yet too many people believe that it will provide them happiness. I am grateful to have recognized that our most important endeavor in life is to be true to ourselves, to our souls, to our passions. I am grateful to honor my own soul’s need to garden.