Tuesday, December 15, 2009


*this is an archived post from my Talk at the Table blog. I thought it might give some background into my love of things that keep me outdoors. And it reminds me of spring, which it absolutely is not here today.

March has brought unexpected, and often taken granted for, early spring.

Backdoor open to let life promise in.

I bend and squat the gardener me, worm watching girl, taking note of mud drying , cracks and bubbles of hope , green reassurance bursting. Slimy blankets to turn back , cribs of soil to ready and gaze over. Down , I am , peering under, prodding , knees firm on hallowed soil. I go to my soul here, reflection, renewal, rebirth, reform, reaffirm, reliance . A vessel with bowed head in the sun, filling from grounded feet, crackling and sparking in resurrection. Amen.

Thanks mom, for your lawn chair lessons and balcony observance, encouraging and shooing that I might find always and seek out, life in the urban settings, parking lots, back alleys, parks, and sandboxes. Thanks for the opportunity to find virtue in tending family vegetable gardens , seasons of seemingly endless toil to nourish growing tangles of dinner table limbs. A grandmother's garden with green pea pearls. Too dark porch caves with bean seed dreams. Grass cushions for headstands and falls from dizzy spinning. Pick up stick snarled forsythia sun spots, and pussy willow sprigs of hard and smooth and velvety caresses on my heart.
Squished against car door , lapping at the rushing air , drives to countryside, by bluffs, across and over and to and fro. Long queasy, Export A hazed, whizzing and imprinting of evergreens , fall glory, waterfalls , springs, ditches and golden lakes of grain. Thank you for the criss crossing of Canadian shields and plains and foothills and farms. For Sunday sermons from quivering poplar clergy. The endless branches of dirt road enlightenment from trails and boardwalks going in to darkened shadow filled breath holding impasses to burst in splendid awe and relief into light ray pencils writing Faith and Believe in trillium and moss strokes.

Many seasons later, married in spring aspirations, I danced with my beloved into trusted sanctity. We claimed our homesteads outside first, with gardens and flower beds , finding harmony in flowing seed sprinkled and bulb filled lines of earthiness. Bringing forth children, crawling babies beckoned to cool greenness off strewn blanket edges, toddlers pinching buds and blooms trailing outside in, to our house , to our heart corners, and to windowsill miracles of carrot tops and potato eyes ,breaking the dormancy and rejoicing in Creation from my new mother essence.

Emerging like crocuses from snow, jellybeans of triumph, a maternal instinct , this intuition for nurturing a gift of tending to be proclaimed in His name.

I can witness triumph and bear disappointment as caretaker of germinating and clinging tendrils. With inspiration and firmness and steadfast patient waiting , for the sun to quell storms and the moon to illuminate grace, I can turn over flower beds and fluff the pillows of my divine abundance.

I pray to impart this living with passion and following of conscience, on those grown in my womb , most of all. Protect and prune and stake up in support, so with tender communion may they stand and bloom .

May they feel peaceful rejoicing in lilac blooms , crowns of assurance in delicate fragrant clusters, sprinkled about rural fields, and planted with promise by communities , bundles of cut stems adorning spring lit tabletops.

I accept and have internalized that the shrines of nature lead me to walk with Him always , as I work outside the home in these fields and garden plots that have chosen me. I parent with perseverance and trust , a covenant of white tulips and magnolia , soup pot herbs and backyard bouquets. Gardening is my prayer offered in reverence and action

I have felt the tear swell blessings of gingerly passed dandelion posies from five angels on earth , and remembered too, that long ago bittersweet honouring of my own .


  1. Mmm, lovely. Your words brought up early rememberances for me too. You write it far more beautifully than I though.


  2. Thanks , Deborah. It was written during Lent, so it has that slant, but I decided to leave it unedited. Thanks for reading.

  3. jellybeans of triumph! great line.
    This is a beautiful piece, esp right now, when I sit here trying to stay warm, waiting for snow. Love how you described the pussywillows. Perfect. I too was more concerned about the outside when I bought my first home. Racing around the yard, taking in the trees, planning my veggie garden. Thanks for all your wonderful, thoughtful comments on my blog. They make me happy.

  4. Deb,

    This is beautiful, as is all your work. I love to read the heart-felt words. It's as if they tumble from your fingers and remain so without edit, without need for edits.

    Thank you for sharing.

    Happy New Year,

  5. Deb, I have visited this blog in the past I am sure. I admire gardens and gardeners yet when it comes to actually doing anything in my garden I panic. Good thing my husband has a green thumb. Thanks to him, we have a beautiful front and back yard as well as a kitchen garden.

  6. I think I was placed in a location with all four seasons for a reason. These seasons give me a visual for all the changes God does in my life through the work of His hand. Blessings to you, this bitterly cold winter morning! I love the extension of you through your writing. Thank you for sharing!

  7. Dear Deb,
    Thank you for your kind comments on my blog.
    You are a gifted writer and photographer.
    I, too, admire Mary Oliver; how lovely to come here and be greeted by her words!
    Blessings to you; I look forward to getting better acquainted with you.

  8. This is just so beautiful. Love the images you create in your writing and your love of the outdoors!

    Genny :)

  9. Oh my Goodness, this is beautiful! I think you could be my new best friend!! You expressed so eloquently the feelings of my own heart of gardening. De-Lovely. **happy smiles** Deb

  10. Karen... I truly appreciate your comment. Wow. And I imagine I will be blessed with visits to your space. I blog mainly at Talk at the Table, so hope to see you there.

    Genny... Thank you for taking the time to read this. It's a little long:)
    Enjoy the rest of the weekend!

    Deborah.... Thanks so much! as I said, this was a little long. It is one of my first posts over at my main blog, Talk at the Table. I hope to see you there as well, I think you'd like the poem I posted (not mine).
    Looking forward to getting to know you more.

  11. Hi Deb, I was looking for your email, and realized it isn't anywhere. Just wanted to say hi, and thank you for touching my life in such a beautiful way. I know you have visited with me on my second blog recently, and I am embarrassed that I've neglected to respond in a more direct way. Wishing you a lovely and blessed week.

  12. Angie ~ I didn't realize that it wasn't on here, but it is on the Talk at the Table blog. It's dcolarossi@greenacresgardening.ca in case you still need it.

    Hug received and appreciated. Sending good thoughts your way , too.

  13. What a tenderly expressed essay. Gardening is soul work.

  14. Beautifully written. Loved this post :0)

  15. Maggie ~ Thank you. I think so too.

    Eternally Distracted ~ Thank you for reading it. I hope to see you at Talk at the Table. I apologize for not having been blog reading of late. But you are on my must catch up with list :)