Beau May 20th, 2008
The wind was really blowing the past weekend, and the grassy fields looked like an ocean of waves. We were up early spreading mulch around trees and shrubs. I came upon a solitary daisy in the field. It looks like a common variety of asters, but it makes me wonder how it ended up in the field. Dandelions are supposed to be very good for the bees, especially in early spring. But rather than thousands of the yellow little blossoms, I would much prefer some more of these! But what do I know, apparently the bees don’t take as much pollen or nectar from asters compared to other flowers.
On the subject of the bees, I checked on them this past weekend. The queens were out and about, and the bees were building new honeycomb for the queen to lay eggs. So far so good, although until yesterday it was so windy I was concerned about how they were doing. But nature seems to just do fine, and as the wind calmed and the day warmed up they were coming and going.
We checked our apple trees and found apples growing! The bad news is that on one tree all the blossoms dropped off, and on this one only four apples were developing. I remember when they were in full bloom, I didn’t hardly see a bee or insect on the apple flowers. It was also very cool and windy during the early spring bloom, so perhaps they were not pollinated successfully. We also had a light frost that may have caused the drop, but maybe still we’ll have an apple or two by fall.
Lots to catch up with these days, but really are we ever “done” doing anything? So much of life is just a journey from one project or phase of growth to another. My nature likes to find completeness with things, often very quickly. But my nature has little to do with Mother Nature, for which completeness is a varying transition from one state of being to another. In our rush to and fro I sense the irony of it all in the grass and weeds that grow, and the trees that sway in the wind heavy with leaves that will begin falling before I can finish my little list of projects.
We orient our lives around the rhythm of the seasons, trying to join a cadence that fits. Eventually I find myself sighing deeply, throwing up my hands with a knowing smile, and joining the flow to embrace what simply is. I watch the birds dart around the trees, and the dogs chasing each other. I marvel at the energy of a boy testing himself and chasing imaginary creatures. I see the bluebirds catching insects and watch a fish rise to the surface of the pond. I see flowers bloom and fade, sharing a few days or weeks for the year as they slowly grow.
I look at trees that have fallen over in the wind seemingly too soon, because I was not yet ready for them to leave. And I think of family and friends that have left in much the same way. Sometimes acceptance is a difficult thing, but if we don’t embrace what is, then I think we hinder so much in our own lives. For me life is about growth and managing change. I’m constantly trying to manage the growth and change that occurs right around me from an external viewpoint. Of course that’s not really what I mean. Everything about that external context is part of my journey too, and it’s really about managing the growth and change within.