Last fall we had to remove 3 giant ancient spruce trees from the edge of our property. These trees had probably served as sentinels to our home for approximately 80 years. By the time they came down they were nothing more than stoic gray skeletons. The two men who took the trees down did a beautiful job. Not one single living plant in the garden beneath and around these trees was disturbed in the process. Two hours after they began they were gone, the area raked clean of all debris. Except for the three short stumps that were left there was no sign of the majestic beings that had stood there for so long but the effect was devastating never the less. With these giants down and gone the energy around my home shifted dramatically. It was like the entire garden suddenly felt unprotected and abandoned. The feeling of being exposed and vulnerable was intense.The sense of loss was tangible. Even visitors and clients commented on the emptiness. We grieved. Who knew? I was at a loss on how to re-establish a boundary that would create privacy yet allow flow. The winter came and went.
Every spring when the buds first come up through the earth I’m amazed by the feeling of vitality that comes with it. As an energy worker I’ve learned to feel my way before I step forward, it’s kind of like thinking before you speak. I walk through my garden very gently, unobtrusively to see what’s going on. I don’t want to damage any new growth but that’s not why I tiptoe through my tulips.
I try to walk with kindness, respect and gratitude for this expression of life. I am so grateful for the bountiful abundance of my flower and herb garden and I have found over the years that when I approach my garden with this attitude it smiles back at me. Every tiny tip that breaks ground shoots ahead of it a field of energy to grow into. The energy of the plant holds space for the new growth potential of each leaf and stem that will eventually appear. I can sit and stare at the garden in the early cool days of spring and not visualize the coming growth, but actually see the vital energy that precedes what will surely come. I can often forget what is actually in my garden, memories can be fickle instruments at times remembering only the favorites, but when I focus on my garden with an attitude of appreciation and acceptance, all the players of my perennial symphony show themselves and the part they play in the whole. I then ask my garden who needs to be moved, who’s missing, what else by way of accessories needs to be added to create the most pleasing repertoire for the coming season. And I become inspired. I see colors, shapes and textures of varying heights and dimensions that will find their way into the garden this year. My role is as co-creator. I consider myself a steward to the earth and my job is to assist in the harmonious expression of her vibrations. Sure I have a great knowledge of plant species, organic gardening practices and companion planting and this is how the earth speaks to me; through my knowledge. Together we shape shift the garden every year as is needed.
As spring arrived this year we still felt the loss of the big trees but healing had happened and the mourning had stopped. The vitality of spring was creating new potential and fresh possibilities. A split rail cedar fence went up, varying heights, open, structured yet rustic and natural like the trees. Solomon’s seal was moved to a new shady spot, the Japanese Spurge, hostas and pink astilbe would stay for now. Evening primrose, day lillies and and cat mint were delighted with the warmth of the spring sun. A bright new Prairie Fire Crabapple anchored down one corner, a star magnolia the other. A red stemmed dogwood with variegated leaves squatted down nicely next to a birch clump that was planted last spring.
Amazed and very satisfied with the new feeling and look of the garden I asked if there was anything else that had to come in this year to complete the transition. Yes, lavender, lots of lavender. The energy of Lavender is to bring balance and harmony, like all the strings in an orchestra. It’s still early, but already the energy of lavender is finding it’s place – now I just have to find the plants and bring them to their new home.