Cabbage Butterfly

I was sitting at the kitchen table editing a document and drinking hot tea, when I heard a beating of wings against the window.  It was in the inside, not the outside.  A cabbage butterfly.  I do not know how it got inside or where it found a place to grow and open in the house, but here it is in the middle of winter.  It soon gave up beating its wings against the window and found the orchids that were blooming and rested there.  What a lovely surprise.

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    Invite to Practice Yoga and Gardening

    I am pleased and excited to announce my first public, in person practice since the inception of the pandemic.  Is it any surprise that this yoga offering is an invitation to the garden, which is a place dedicated to creating and sharing joy, learning, and nourishment throughout the community for over 50 years?

    Come get out into beauty and into your own body and into the dirt on Tuesday, June 6th, from 9 am to 12 pm: at the Washington Youth Garden, on the grounds of the National Arboretum.  After the welcoming yoga practice, we will all join the staff and the regular volunteers (I’m one of them), in the garden.  Throughout the time, I will be available to respond to individual questions about yoga and about optimizing physical alignment/orientation to make it more sustainable to work in the garden, especially for older bodies.  Here’s the link to get more details and to register:   Yoga and Volunteering at the Washington Youth Garden

    Think this sounds great, but you’re hoping for a different time or location, please feel free to reach out.

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    State of the Garden (Rescue Orchids)

    These orchids were left out with the trash in the neighborhood yesterday.  Though my bags were full from a walk to the farmers market, I did not want to leave them to perish when they could yet offer more beauty.

    Despite what looked like months of neglect–the plants evidently owned only for their blooming time and not their full growing cycle–there was optimistic new growth. 

    Time will tell whether they will rebloom.  For now, they look pretty happy to have a new home.

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    Nightblooming Jasmine in Winter (and sadhana)

    I walked into the dining room yesterday and caught a hint of an exquisitely sweet fragrance.  I knew the paperwhite bulb I was forcing was only in bud.  What was it?  I went to look and saw that there was a single blossom on the nightblooming jasmine.  Inside, in winter, the single bloom emitted as much apparent fragrance as dozens outside.  I have had this plant for 12-13 years, since it was in a three inch growers’ pot.  The last time I repotted it was several years ago, but I faithfully bring it inside and out every winter/summer cycle, and feed and water it plentifully.  In response, it keeps getting fuller and offering blooms.  When it is outside, it can have dozens of blooms at once.  Sometimes I harvest the buds before they open and use them to scent green tea.  When I find open blossoms in the morning, I harvest them by the handful and put them on my alter or in the bedroom, where they will provide scent for a day or two.  Outside in the summer, while profuse, the blooms last only a single night.  Inside in winter (with an average 24-hour a day temperature of 61-62F), the blooms, though coming more occasionally and only a couple at a time, can last for three or four days.

    I think the blossoms of yoga and meditation sadhana (practice) are not dissimilar to the way this plant blooms.  With steady care, they will always bloom, though sometimes more than others, sometimes with a different character, and sometimes with just growing periods with no apparent blossoms.  Sometimes, there will be a wild profusion of vision and offering, but those tend to be fleeting.  The memory of the intoxicating perfume, though, keeps us tending the practice, knowing it will come again.  During the time between the wilder experiences, the nectar still comes, and though in less dramatic ways, perhaps all the sweeter for coming in a time wh

    en we are just practicing and tending and not expecting any great revelation.

    jasmine

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    Harvesting and Replanting

    This weekend’s work in the garden continues on removing summer plants that are no longer productive to make way for cold weather planting (various greens and root vegetables).

    The cherry tomatoes and a couple of the hot peppers are still flowering in addition to fruiting. Those I will leave in place as long as they are producing or until a frost, whichever comes first.

    I ruthlessly pulled up all of the other pepper plants, gleaning the last of that cycle of the harvest (some years there are lots of peppers to pickle and roast and enjoy into winter, but not with this summer’s weeks of blasting, arid heat followed by the flooding storms).

    With the limited space in my tiny garden, frittering away time or space from sentimentality, attachment, neglect, or lack of knowledge, has a significant impact on the possibility of flourishing. Sometimes I relish my ability to be ruthless in the garden–to tear things up that do not serve, let them go, and invite in new and more nourishing and productive things.

    When thought about in relationship to the vastness of possibility, my life is not unlike a tiny and limited garden, the limits being space and time and the particular and peculiar collection of quirks, challenges, and talents that came in this incarnation. Oh to be as ruthless in discarding what does not serve in this life as I can be in the garden.

    Peace and light, E — Posted with WordPress for BlackBerry.

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