Last week’s storm left my garden landscape bereft of possibility. Vanaprastha’s square-foot beds, meadow, plantings and forest—all buried in ice-capped snow. And yet, in the dead of winter with the sun setting low on the southwest horizon, I am preparing for Easter’s spring.
Possibility in garden making
“In my flower garden, I am the weaver of stories. In my flower garden, I am the composer of seasonal songs. Or maybe I am more conductor than composer,” writes Christy Purifoy, author of Garden Maker, which releases tomorrow, Tuesday, January 25th. As a member of the book launch team, I was given access to an advance copy.
The gorgeous photographs in Garden Maker were all taken by the author. Here’s an example. Faith informs the beauty Christie Purifoy captures in words and pictures, because she is a Christian.
“When we make a garden, we are also creating a story, and every garden story we write is rooted in the deep story of God’s creation—a story of birth, growth, maturity, death, and resurrection or return.” Garden Maker
Spring, summer, autumn, winter. Resurrection. Possibility returns.
Possibility in flowers
On the way back from our walk to the mailbox last week, Cato puppy and I saw the white puff of a dandelion seed, floating across the frozen driveway into the woods. Persistent, aren’t they, I thought, where had that come from? Weeds like dandelions are a test of character for the earthly garden maker. But I wasn’t thinking about summer weeding. My thoughts were all about planting my spring vegetable garden and ordering daffodils to plant next fall.
I stopped to catch my breath, looked over the barren landscape surrounding our house, and remembered Purifoy’s words: “…when we have quieted our thoughts and stilled our bodies, we begin to see what isn’t. We begin to notice absence… Could I, maybe, grow flowers there?” The possibly in marigolds, zinnias, daisies, black-eyed Susan, phlox, purple coneflower—and more.
Possibility in singing
During yesterday’s service at church, the women’s trio sang “Canon of Praise,” including yours truly as the third voice: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TyUaQtt3oFI, starting a bit after the 35:30 mark.
I don’t have the voice I had when young. That’s both troubling and gratifying. Though not as reliable—sometimes my voice breaks—my “mature” voice is stronger, reaching deep into my soul. So, I sing every day.
What does this have to do with garden making? Singing offers the possibility of praising the Lord. Or as Christie Purifoy writes: “Every garden is singing a song for the One who made us, and we are invited to sing along.”
Link up with Five Minute Friday: https://fiveminutefriday.com/2022/01/20/fmf-writing-prompt-link-up-possibility/
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Christ being the perfect gardener and his invitation to come and die… I JUST finished reading Romans 6, and that is the whole sermon. Dying to live. Oh, the things He plants when slavery to the sin nature is cleared away!
Dear Linda, thank you so much for your comment! May your garden-life thrive!
I planted a bunch on new bulbs this fall.I can’t wait to see how my flower beds look this spring. Unless of course the squirrels have replanted the bulbs in weird places again.
Oh yes, those landscape-redesigning squirrels! Thanks for your comment! -C.D.