Things never happen like you think they’re going to do they…every time I go out into the garden I’m reminded of this. Things grow without any help or encouragement from me…they grow in the strangest of places – the sort of places that ‘the books’ say they will never ever grow…things grow strong and tall almost in spite of me, and it’s glorious.
I’ve been trying, even though it’s winter and things are growing so slowly, to take some direction from my plants and be more like them; do more like they do. I’ve been ill you see…not seriously or anything, just a boring old chest infection that won’t go away and leaves me downcast and demoralised. It’s like being constantly trodden on again and again (by something rather heavy). Plants get trodden on a lot in my garden – because I am clumsy and forgetful, but they don’t get sad about it, they just un-crumple themselves and keep on growing.
I noticed the same thing with my daughter who caught my bug recently – she’s a bit baity and wakeful but she’s not SAD – she’s not walking around under a cloud of ‘I’M ILL’ – just going from moment to moment feeling whatever she’s feeling…popping up again, like a daisy in a lawn.
Things are ever so slightly shambolic round here – I have presents to buy and wrap, mince pies to make and a book to finish. I can’t find my digital camera card – it’s under the the messy pile that is my life right now – so I can’t show you my Chimonanthus praecox which is subtly, sublimely and ‘smellily’ in flower right now, or the beautiful flowering ivy which is covering my garden walls and which I’ve used for my wreath and other lovely decoratey things.
Instead, here’s someone small and rather portly sitting on a haystack to remind us that Spring is coming, and then Summer.
Have a happy, healthy Christmas everyone.