I thought about this tonight as Ed and I got in the car to raid another garden. This one, just north of Madison boasted (on Craigs list) over a hundred perennials dug up from the owner's yard and the prices were minimal. It's as if making money is not the point.
Ed asks often -- why don't you just divide your own old plants, instead of looking for new ones? I do divide! But as long as we expand gardening space at the rate that we do, there will be room for even more.
Our evening ride to pick out bits and pieces of perennials from the yard of Joel (thank you, Joel!) is beautiful: the colors are warm, the air is perfect.
The day was to bring storms, but it didn't do that. It brought calm. A guilty calm, because we know that others do not share in it.
But if it is that -- a guilty calm -- then it comes with an obligation: to share, to regift, as it were -- out of the abundance that will soon flood our gardens.
In other news -- well, the non news of breakfast on the porch...
... a walk to the new orchard, to inspect the young trees and to be rewarded with a bloom on one of them...
...and then, back on the porch for exam grading...
...with an occasional break to plant a flower...
...and finally the evening ride for the plants, and the return, home again, in the honey glow of a late spring evening.
Your pastoral photograph of the farm buildings, trees, classic clouds in the sky and golden light casting long shadows makes me wish I was there to experience the view in person. Thank You.
ReplyDeleteA photograph speaks a thousand words, but not even a thousand words can ever define what it is we see and feel when we look at a well-executed photograph. Every image we create has a story that is often different than the story it tells. In other words, the journey we go on is the destination, and we will not know what the destination was until after we have been there. All the while we are in the moment of that journey, we have no clue if we have arrived or not. For, me the photographs I create are nothing more than the postcards of the journey of the vacation that is my life. They are also nothing less. They are the reflections of the best times of my life. They are always more for me than for anyone else. I hope it is the same for you.
Well put, dande. Thank *you*. And yes, very true. Why else all those photos of breakfasts and of the farmhouse? The reader may yawn, but for me, they are snapshots of moments of utter delight. You and I share this unbelievable (despite it all) draw toward happiness.
ReplyDeleteI clicked to tell you what a beautiful painting that landscape scene is, and then happened upon this wonderful conversation about why we photograph the same thing day after day and get such joy from it. Thank you Dande and Nina for expressing it so well.
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