My garden, my love

Yesterday the hubs told me two things about my garden: One, that I have too many romantic notions about plants. And two, that my garden was a dry, dusty wasteland.

The first idea, that I have too many romantic notions about plants may be right. My mind has flipped out on fairies and majikal plant energies. It's because a friend re-introduced me to Susun Weed via her youtube videos. Susun Weed's energy has infected my mind! Or, re-awakened a sleeping spirit in me. I feel compelled to talk out loud to the plants and bees and winds.

This reminds me so much of the energy that swept through me when I lived with the wolves in New Mexico. There I made an extraordinary connection with a man who opened up the spirit world for me to have a peek. Really, it was just his mind, but it was extraordinary, and he reminded me that there are people talking with animals and plants and spirits and having real connections whether I participate or not. I jumped in with both feet and emerged gentler than ever before.

That experience slowly dripped off me until I let it go, or maybe just tucked it away. Because now after watching Susun's videos the old plant spirits are back, calling me to know them more and more and more.

That same dear friend who opened me to Susun Weed gave me a potted motherwort and it doesn't look like it's going to make it, which is devastating for someone who feels opened up to the energies of the plant world!! I say that with a hint of sarcasm because deep down inside, I know that Erik is right to say that I have too many romantic notions about plants. If I think about them too much and get so sad when one doesn't make it then I am projecting way too much onto the plants. Sometimes they just need to be left alone.

Which is what I think killed the motherwort! I should have re-potted it immediately when I got home?!

Who knows the reason... I put the motherwort on a bench under the blossoming orange tree with the chamomile next to it to comfort it. I try not to visit it too often, but is it my imagination or do the newest baby leaves look a little perky? The chamomile has a tendril hovering over the motherwort and it opened a flower on it today. So there is some hope!

So, yes, my notions of the garden are a bit romantic. He told me that I should be cutting all the flowers off the broccoli, but the bees are having the most blissed out time visiting all those flowers. He told me that the seeds aren't worth saving, that broccoli's genes get diluted by wild mustard. Oh well, I just don't care! I'm just letting the bees enjoy the flowers because I think it makes the garden happier. Also, my garden plants are packed so close together that I think if I ripped out the broccoli it would affect the parsley and chard surrounding it.

My notions of my garden are so romantic that sometimes I feel like I love my garden as much as I love a pet. When I see the strawberry plants with their prayer-hand leaves emerging from that bundle of green I feel so much joy. When I see the seedlings emerge their cotyledons from the black soil and open wide for the sun's energy it makes me feel so content and peaceful. I love my garden so much I could marry it!

So why did my husband say that my garden was a dry, dusty wasteland? Because he is encouraging me to pack even more plant-life into the nooks and crannies of the garden. More watering in more places. The garden is infecting us, we are becoming slaves to it, all willingly and peacefully. We are addicted to the rush of seeing food growing around us!