Each Spring, when I drive through my old neighborhood, it’s a little bittersweet. There, in the front yard, are two trees I planted with my own hands. Each small saplings; one special ordered and delivered – an oak, about six foot tall; one just plucked from the back yard and rather unceremoniously re-plunked in the front yard, a redbud, perhaps 12 inches tall.
Those trees really mark time for me.
The itty bitty redbud; it’s up to the second story now; a blaze of purple outlined branches; breathtaking. The oak – it’s beyond the roofline now, growing straight and true – it’s going to outlive me and my grandchildren, if allowed; it was so small, I have photos of my girls, tiny arms wrapped around it.
I think it’s true that you plant flowers for yourself, but trees for the future generations.
That whole yard tells a tale of my existence back then; no children, no business — entire weekends devoted to gardening; hours digging, watering, hauling and lifting. Just as many hours dreaming, thinking and planning; scouring Martha Stewart Living magazine and various gardening books for ideas, inspiration. Ridiculous amounts of time watching Home and Garden Television.
The kind of life I wanted and imagined was quite different from what I want or imagine now.
I made the mistake of driving through the alley a year after we sold the house; just to check on my “babies” in the backyard– the three types of clematis, the rose bushes, the lilies, the trees, the perennials.
The huge, beautiful climbing rose – it was completely gone. No sign of clematis; at least the trees seemed to all still be there.
I took it personally.
It was an excellent lesson on letting go, which has seemed to be an extra credit course I’ve been taking in this lifetime that I don’t remember signing up for. Things come, things go; experiences, people, emotions, things. There is only one guarantee on the Earth plane; CHANGE. Either embrace it, or suffocate beneath its crush; either way, it’s moving on forward.
I’ve planted gardens and trees at our new home; the soil isn’t very good, so there’s been more preparation. I don’t have as much time, but I do what I can with what I’ve got. Which in itself has been a beautiful lesson; anything that is going to be inspiring, nourishing; anything you want to flourish, grow and create; it starts with preparing the ground and working with what IS.
This Wednesday, April 14, is the New Moon in Aries; an excellent time to begin preparing the ground for whatever it is that you choose to create or grow this coming year, and beyond.
Plan; dream; prepare; but don’t get too distracted by glossy magazines or television shows; maybe your version of perfect looks a little bit more unique, a little more real – but no less beautiful.