The Autumn Garden (or Why I Plant)

We are in the thick of the autumn migration now. Warblers, flycatchers, other insect eating birds, raptors, hummingbirds, dragonflies, Monarchs are all making their way hundreds or even thousands of miles south to warmth and food as our northern regions freeze over, even as our native bee species continue feeding and reproducing while there is still time.

They come through, and sometimes pause, in our yard, finding an abundance of nectar and pollen, seeds, berries and insects and shelter to fuel them for the next leg of their journey.

This, above all other reasons, is why I plant. The hedgerow and gardens that surround our house I plant for beauty, of course, but even more, for a short while, to be a part of the lives of these small, courageous, holy creatures that fleetingly share my space.

Through these pictures, I invite you to share in it too.

 

 

What Better Way?

What better way to greet the dawn this chilly,
drizzly, breezy morning than to wander,
wrapped in my old blanket,
among the damp salvia and agastache
and asters, blues and purples all,
or to delight in the sunny late black-eyed Susans
and the scarlet of the young blueberries
against the backdrop of slowly-turning autumn
colors of the woods?

How better to welcome the
newness of today 
than listening to the rhythm of the rain,
to the early cries of blue jays,
of crows and cardinals and
white-throated sparrows and the 
melodies of still-present crickets and katydids,
counting down what is left of the lingering
warm days of the year?

We are on the cusp of the Earth's long rest but,
like a child not yet ready for bed,
she prances and twirls,
showing off her extravagant colors and
throwing down her fruit...
abundance free for the taking, 
inviting all who are willing into
her dance of renewal.