Then spring came. My head was bowed from months of sadness and despondency. With eyes downcast I noticed the seedlings as they sprouted up from between the flagstones. All kinds of majestic trees in their miniature forms reaching up towards me with their tender fronds. I dug them up from my yard when I found them, potted them and held for them a tenderness I had not felt in a long time. I sought out seedlings; found a field I ran past regularly filled with tiny natives and incy-wincy chinese elms. I remember finding some maple seedlings when walking a class of children back from the tennis courts. I dug one of them out with the corner of my medicare card and carried it in my pocket. The children glanced at me and took no notice, what comes from action packed television I guess. I tried my hand at creating cuttings and graft plants together. I feel that may be for a gardener a few years my senior.
As spring melted into a hot summer I watered my plants daily, draining the water-tanks. Less and less often I watered them with sorrow, more and more joy was fed into those little pots. Christmas rolled around and a sparkling New Years Eve with beloved friends. A New Years I chose without any consideration for anyone's birthday or other obligations. It was a turning point for me and suddenly I shot up. Like my tiny grove I shot towards the hot sun, nourished by the fertile soil of family support and kind hearted friends coming out of the wood work. I was spun on my heel and onto a plane, on a ticket I booked the moment my world had fallen apart. In a leap of faith I was flung back into a nest of deeply emotional memories. Well, that's a bit of a flourish. I went back to where I lived and loved with whats'is'face. Three weeks in Niseko and I found I owned it. I had the time of my life flying through the powder, dancing on tables, face shots and jager shots, freezing fingers and toasty warm restaurants. Within days of arriving my only thought of home was for my plants. Were they being watered? I was certainly getting enough liquids. I felt brave and strong, happy and glad to be alive. I came home and was happy to find that they were all alive, well mostly. Naturally, when you try to take care of living things they sometimes die.
Other things die too. In this whole process I have sloughed off whole layers of dead skin, parts of my life that died long ago and needed shifting. Likewise I have revitalized parts of me that had forgotten what it is to flex and stretch. On the most recent long weekend I did something that took more courage than I knew I had. I stepped away from my past, from what I knew and took for granted as part of my being. I chose who I gained strength from, some old friends and some new, and I had the most wonderful time. I've come home a new person. Or rather a newer person as this past year has been filled with newness. Creativity is just flowing from me with images and imagery and for the first time in years my mind and my body seem to share their strength. Then on top of this I have a crush. Of course it's a fairly impossible situation, as I always seem to enjoy that, but definitely a crush. So things are actually golden. Shining and crystal clear, like the beautiful autumn mornings and the brilliant turning of the leaves.
And of my garden? Well the irony is, when I turn to look at my garden, all their little leaves are dropping off and I'm watering a whole lot of sticks.
