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.

**** Note ****
The first 3 images of this post are on my Flickr Photostream.
If you would like to have one as desktop wall paper for your computer,
click on the link above, select a photo, and use the download tool
in the lower right hand corner.

If you want to use my photos for any other purpose, please contact me using the
contact form on this blog, to obtain my permission.

Walking the Garden


Preparing the soil. Tilling it over and over until it’s the right consistency. Fertilizing. Putting up the fence to keep the deer out. Deciding where to plant each seed.  And then…waiting for the magic to happen.

Each day, several times each day, rain or shine, I step outside and ‘walk the garden’…which is my own term for keeping a watchful eye on all the plants and seedlings.  Ever since I placed the seeds and plants in the dirt I have been so excited and positively obsessed with watching it all grow. 

Everything has sprouted now.  From the beginning to the end of one day I can see the growth.  The rain has been more than plentiful, especially today, making the ground both in and around the garden squishy.  

There is always something for me to learn in each day, each experience.  This garden is no exception.

There is much tending and nurturing of the self that needs to take place, and we aren’t always very good about that.  We may be really good caretakers of others, but our own needs quite often just get put aside.  Or maybe we go too far the other way and only serve our own needs and neglect those around us.  Finding the right balance is the challenge.

Ah, but when we do have that balance, when we know just how to meet our own needs as well as those of others something beautiful comes to life.  When we shed those old layers, that outer crust that no longer fits, and go through the painful process of being re-created, yes, then we see the world through different eyes.

Like the seeds that have come up through that dirt and clay, we finally get to sense that warmth and light, that fresh air, and we stretch…and grow.  

Growing.  Becoming who we really are. Shedding the outer layers that may have protected or shielded us at one time.  Allowing the heart to come into the sun and simply be.