August 17, 2006
Life is indeed a mystery, just as has been said so often in the past. While there is healing for some, there is misery for others. A friend and I speak of facing new days in peace and plenty while so many others see the sun come up to shine upon devastated homes with sights and sounds of warfare near enough to keep fear foremost in the day. No one appears to deserve either one state or the other, so we give heartfelt thanks for the good that is ours, and we pray for those who must live in fear and misery. That effort seems paltry, but human wisdom appears to be inadequate to the task of bringing order into the world.
Growing things are less complicated. The vista here at Sanctuary has changed dramatically with the grand downpour of rain. The cracks in the ground are gone, the soil is spongy, the plants are verdant and wild flowers that had determined to remain still and quiet until better times have suddenly appeared carrying bloom shoots on their heads. I gardened yesterday, determined to clear out the bindweed that could surely feed the world if it were a worthy plant. It had come into our little squares that were to protect the herbs there, and it had wrapped itself around the tomatoes as well. Since it is such a selfish, rapacious sort of plant, covering over everything in its path, it was a delight to pull, snip, and unwrap it from the other things attempting to grow. Due to neglect, the plants had to fend for themselves for quite a while, so the meeker parsley had succumbed; the dill was gone, all of its fronds providing food for some other creature, and the fennel stood next in line. Only the oregano had made a pact with the bindweed, and both were coming out of the designated plant box and making a determined grab for the next boxes over, flattening the thyme and marjoram in their path. Into this little world, I could bring order with a morning’s work, leaving lovely boxes of herbs and tomatoes tidy and breathing free again.