My Intention

These days I walk to my garden to look at the sunflowers, the beans, tomatoes, cucumbers, kale, gourds, and squash.  I enjoy taking my time, often just standing there like someone who has never seen a garden before.

In the early hours of the day I see the dew still clinging to the leaves. My feet feel the dampness and some of the dirt clings to my sandals. A cardinal and a wren compete up in the trees to see who can sing best.  My senses are given such a gift as my hands touch the plants, the fragrance of the tomato plant, pungent and full of summer, brings back memories of gardens past.

What keeps me standing in that space, inside that fence, are the sunflowers, with the morning light filtering through those yellow petals, the fine little hair on the stalk and leaves. The stalk alone brings to mind the magic beans planted by Jack…

I circle and pause, circle and pause, moving a leaf here and there.  

Then as the sun climbs higher the bees arrive.  I can hear their soft hum and see the delicate wings.  I witness the miracle of their relationship; the flower needs the bees and the bees need the flower.  They exist for each other.

This is the gift of the day, this precious time to see and savor what is.  Time to hear those birds, to learn their songs and their colors. Time to feel the heat of a summer morning on my skin.  Time to watch a doe and her two fawns late in the evening as they go by. 

I could trade all this in and do something considered “ambitious” that would earn a wage. This goes through my mind a lot.  

But I don’t want to miss this.

My intention (which, by the way, is another word for ambition) is to stand in my garden and watch these miracles unfold.   

And share them with you.

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11 Replies to “My Intention”

  1. Great photos! I can't explain how happy I become watching bees. Perhaps it is knowing how they are struggling to survive so seeing them is like seeing a miracle and cheering them on.

  2. Oh, Deb, how I enjoyed "walking" around your garden with you this morning. I can smell those tomato plants and feel the hairy stalks of the sunflowers and hear the bees humming as they go about their work. THANK YOU for sharing your beautiful garden with this landless apartment dweller!

  3. Such creative sunflower perspectives. Showing me not just what I expect to see from a sunflower photo – happy yellow face turned toward the sun – but the hidden and secret views. Thank you for standing amongst them and then sharing.

  4. Sometimes, when we are fully aware, we are living our lives just as they are meant to be lived. And, by sharing what you see and feel, you help us all to feel more alive, too. Thank you , Deborah.

  5. Gorgeous photos, full of joy! And yes, there is ambition in telling stories that inspire people to change the world for the better. I had a similar conversation many years ago, with a friend who said I was ambitious. At the time I disagreed because I wasn't obsessed with status or money, but after a while I understood it meant much more.

  6. These are wonderful macro images of your sunflowers, Deb. I am a big fan of sunflowers too, and have five very tall plants growing in my garden. Like you, I go out every morning to see how much they've grown. They bring me so much pleasure.

  7. So glad to find you here again, Deborah.
    I'd lost touch. I loved every sip of my wander through your garden,
    watching the sunflowers with you
    and hearing your heart:)
    I've missed you:)

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