Meadowlark! My Polish surname, in English, translates meadowlark, the first bird to return in the spring to my ancestral homeland. How astonishing that I have lived for more than half a century unaware of this fact while turning lawn after lawn into a meadow, creating habitats for birds in all seasons, having rather a lark of a life.
Now that I’ve shared that lovely epiphany let’s move on to consider whether or not June/July borns have a bit of an edge on this time of year because we – I mean, they, (oh shucks, I’ve told you outright: I had hoped to merely allude) were born in this season.
Everything and everyone seems to be blooming and grinning and sprouting and livening in the warmth and the sun and the early and late light; I put forth the notion – which your aquiesence will make a fact – that Cancer individuals are just more so of all these attributes just now. If you are nodding in agreement, bet you are one of us.
Which brings to mind fireflies. Do they live out here? Could they? Has anyone ever tried to import some? On summer evenings, sitting outdoors, I sometimes find myself tilting head back as if searching for a fragrance and then realize I am seeking the stars in the garden. Memories of an Ontario childhood.
Which brings to mind garden ‘being’. Being receptive to all that a garden has to give. Many of us have experienced the reciprocated joy that occurs when we cuddle a cat, pat it into a purr, knuckle into those spots at the base of its ears, tug gently on fur tips, press the sides of its face into a grin. The very same communication is available in a garden.
It’s necessary to get by the self-consciousness first. That’s why nighttime is a good time to risk shaking hands with ‘garden foolishness’. To go barefoot. Or bare naked. Oh sure, you could step on a slug. And if there is not at least one secluded spot where the eyes of neighbours or passersby are not a concern, is it really a garden?
My sentiment of such garden adventures is not the result of many such frolics but was rooted years ago at a bed and breakfast in Vermont where I chanced to see the owner rising unclothed from a sunrise swim in the pool and then wandering for a few moments through her garden touching leaves and flowers. The experience touches me still.
Close encounters with a garden seems to require a shift in attitude. Assume an intermingling of nature, human and otherwise. Then allow it to happen.
I can’t say I had this in mind over the years, it just seems to happen. But the outcome is so pleasant and rewarding, both to me and family and guests, that I have continued to repeat it.
Saskatoon berries were planted on top of the driveway retaining wall which provided a convenient place to sit with someone and chat while sweetening our palates as well.
A comfortable chair by the mailbox at the end of the driveway invited a reading spot for letters and encouraged extra moments of enjoyment of the correspondence. We are more likely in life to ‘stop and smell the roses’ if there’s a restful bench nearby.
Hammocks are garden wombs. I once was being so nurtured in a hammock under a cherry tree when two perfect, sun-warmed, crimson cherries plopped down on me. I was about to thank the tree for such a gift when I realized it was a crow who had picked the fruit and inadvertently shared his lunch with me.
Always, in the garden, there has been a welcoming spot for that first cup of tea in the morning, the last nod to the daytime at night.
Bubbles. I must mention bubbles. Blow bubbles in the garden. It enhances one’s view on more than one level to release bubbles that reflect and magnify and add colour. And then explode in an ecstasy of fulfilled being.
The recipe for magnificent bubbles is ½ cup dishwashing liquid (if you by chance have some no-longer-available Joy or Dawn stored away this is the best: I use Ultra Ivory) to 5 cups of water and 2 tbsp glycerine. Stir gently, you don’t want a froth.
Use a tin can with both ends removed or some straws gathered together or a wand or a coat hanger bent into a circle (the covered ones are great). You can make tiny or enormous bubbles. I once stood in bubble solution and had a hula hoop used as a wand to pull a bubble up around to completely enclose me. It was incredible.