Pure, Unadulterated Pleasure

It's such a satisfying, peaceful occupation. Gardening, that is. A re-connection with our roots, at risk of sounding like a blatherer. But it's true, there is something gratifyingly necessary about working with soil, planting things, anticipating their maturity, viewing the splendour of nature's garden become one's own. We're caretakers of these gardens we claim as ours, since needless to say nature is the absolute steward of all growing things, ourselves included.

I don't think it's a matter of control, as much as it is the sharing of a wonder, the wonder of life and growth and observing the rituals of renewal. By the time fall arrives gardeners feel just a trifle exhausted with it all, the struggle to combat pests and viral outbreaks in the garden, the continual pulling out of unwanted weeds, the pruning, the cultivation of beautiful growing things suddenly become tired looking, spent, past their prime.

And during the long winter months - so unlike the summer months that just seem somehow to melt past our realization before we even know it - we dream of the possibility of spring. In the depths of winter we can hardly credit the potential of spring, it seems so impossibly far off. We wonder what will have perished, not managed to make it through the freeze-and-thaw cycles, the bitter cold. We see how the leaves of the rhododendron fold protectively into themselves in the cold. And view the nakedly unprotected buds of the coming spring's lush magnolia flowers.

Hardly believing they will make it through the winter. Wondering which of the bulbs we've planted will survive, which the squirrels will have dug up before having the opportunity to set their root system. But they have and they do and they will and each spring we're amazed that both they, our garden's growing things and we, have survived yet another winter. Spring unfolds and brings with it all the excitement of newly-discovered survivors, and more. Everything looks larger than life, than our memories could support, while awaiting their treasured appearance.

It's not only we who appreciate the gardens, but the birds that come through, to bathe in the birdbath, to peck among the trees and the shrubs. And the insects that invariably visit, the spiders, and butterflies, the bees and various kinds of beetles and bugs, from ladybugs to the nasty lily beetles. They all have their place in nature's generous and all-encompassing blueprint for this Planet.