The wind was chilly, at least to me, a Florida girl through and through. 70 degrees warranted long yoga pants, a jacket, and tennis shoes- no barefoot gardening for me today! I hugged my arms in, criss-crossing my jacket as I shuffled to my “spot”. It is what I get to wake up to every morning, where I see the sun reflect its early morning glow to its late afternoon haze. It is the bank of the river but best of all, my “spot” is hidden by a hundred year old Podocarpus tree. The old tree provides shade to my forrest medicinals and a back rest for me when I sit in my spot. The grass was illuminated by the reflection off the water, while I regrouped. The morning was spent getting JW off to school and my mother off to work (she wakes up ridiculously early but is still always late getting out the door). The stress of running two lives is forming knots up my neck.
I look out and take a deep breath. When everyone is gone and I shift to my “plant medicine maker compartment”, where I do my best form of living. I look out on the reflecting water and set my intentions for the day. I will work on the website, harvest morning fresh medicinals, bag up some teas, and get my little advertisement ready for the local paper. I relish my last few seconds, closing my eyes, focusing on the surrounding sounds and the warmth of the sun’s reflected beams. As I get up to inside I see a etheric beam of rainbow colors coming down onto the Mimosa tree.
How could I go inside? I look around and realize there is more. I am in the middle of an active spiritual experience. I feel love, from the plants, well up in my heart. Focusing through my heart and not my physical mind, I SEE the beauty of plant life.
The baby Elderberry plants are dancing with a child-like excitement. I can feel the immaturity of their spirit. The Ginko trees stand firmly and are so authoritative compared to the Elderberry seedlings.
Nettle loves this weather and glistens each needle like it is showing off jewelry.
As I move around the side of my garden, the cool breeze whips me in the face, pulling me from my experience. I notice that I am being watched by a cat. Just a random cat. Im sure it is the one that lays in my catnip each night… shaking my head I see the chickweed getting ready to bloom, not yet time to harvest.
And the yarrow! A common plant in the mountains, but if provided with the necessary growing medium, will thrive in the winter here.
I look back, and thanked “my spot” for always being there. Today it made me slow down. It told me that there is no need to rush inside, away from the living proof of God, and stick my head in a computer. It showed me a better way to start my day.
I began to head around to the front of my garden, a lot of the back garden was still in the shades of the morning. Again my plan was not “the” plan. The Lemongrass stops me in my tracks. It is preparing to seed, and the light was capturing it just perfectly….
After stopping to marvel at the wonders of plant life, I rounded the corner to the front of the garden. The beauty was unexplainable. Dew drops that had kissed each leaf over the night, were puddling and evaporating back into the heavens. Each plant had such a gratitude for the nourishing dew, and they each showed it in their posture. Focusing on each plant, the time around me stood still.
Valerian welcomed the morning through hazy eyes…
Clary Sage’s vertical leaves shone light like a stain glass window.
One Borage flower was opening to the world…
Poppies drying off the healing dew, ready to start the day.
The love around me was immeasurable, and I almost missed it. The gift I received stayed with me through the entire day, soothing my frustrations and quelling my fears. I was truly blessed by that experience and lean on that when life becomes chaotic. That is why I am an Herbologist.