learning to pray with my garden...

I heard a new word today: cotyledon. Upon telling Di that my wildflower patch is beginning to come to life, she said: Those tiny one and two leafs on the flower seedlings are called cotyledons. Who knew? "Upon germination" writes the wise souls at Science Daily, "a significant part of the embryo within the seed of a plant," appears above the ground. Those with "one cotyledon are known as monocotyledonous (while) those with two embryonic leaves are called dicotyledonous." 

There is something oddly calming about seeing these wee wildflowers start their journey into being. They are doing exactly what they were created to do: in time they will likely flood my backyard with color, attract butterflies and perhaps even be a part of the journey for some honey bees. Same with the cucumbers currently climbing up our homemade trellis as well as both our various tomato plants. And I would be remiss if I didn't celebrate the beauty of the dill along with the basil, cilantro, flat and curly leaf parsley, mint, oregano, marjoram and thyme. Just to add some color and balance, I added a few small marigolds to the corners of the terraces, too. 

While away over the weekend in the Eastern Townships of Quebec, we walked for a few hours through the Ile de Marais - the Island of the Marsh - near the town of Magog. It was silent except for the frogs, a few red wing blackbirds, a huge great blue heron and a few out of place canoers. The sun was warm, a gentle breeze kept us cool and the solitude of walking together in silence was soul food.

After our hike, we drove to Livres Lac Brome in the town of Knowlton. (check it out here: https://
bookmanager.com/1178946/?q=h. For those who already know and love the novels, check out the fun at this site: a tour of the Eastern Townships based upon the Three Pines novels. We did it a few years ago and it was a gas. Go to: https://www. easterntownships.org/tourist-routes/12/three-pines-inspirations-map-louise-penny) The town has gained notoriety through the Louise Penny Three Pines/Inspector Gamache novels. We have been visiting for the past 11 years. For me, the bookstore is a place of quiet depth and integrity in a realm that is often too harsh and violent. We have attended a book launch or two for Ms. Penny over the years, too - sometimes intentionally and sometimes totally by chance - and I think of it as part of a secular pilgrimage of sorts. I found one of the most important books of my later life there, Rediscovering Reverence, and always discover something wise essential whenever we go.

After spending another few hours browsing, Di showed me a book entitled Everyday Sanctuary: A Workbook for Designing a Sacred Garden Space. I didn't get it right away. Truth is it took another 24 hours before the lure and promise of the text woke me up. But when it did by midday on Sunday, we returned and thankfully found that it was still waiting for our arrival. It is a workbook that invites us "to transform our lives by caring for nature in the space we already have while learning to use its simple, powerful gifts effectively. (We) will be guided to envision and create sacred space in our garden, to cultivate healing relationships with the plants there, and to develop simple daily nature-based practices to expand our happiness and well-being." 

That rings true to my peregrination: for the past 18 months we have been a journey into beholding; now it is time to take stock of what is real and embrace it with love and tenderness. Praying, living and learning from nature seems to be exactly where God is encouraging me to spend more time. This morning, I laughed out loud when I came upon this Mary Oliver poem:

What can I say that I have not said before?
So I’ll say it again.
The leaf has a song in it.
Stone is the face of patience.
Inside the river there is an unfinishable story
and you are somewhere in it
and it will never end until all ends.

Take your busy heart to the art museum and the
chamber of commerce
but take it also to the forest.
The song you heard singing in the leaf when you
were a child
is singing still.
I am of years lived, so far, seventy-four,
and the leaf is singing still.

I have never sat in my garden space to discern what the garden wants me to know. I have never emptied my busy mind long enough to listen to what the garden wants to become with my assistance. Nor have I ever co-created a garden for prayer and nourishment. Apparently, now is that time. How did John the Baptist put it? I must decrease so that Christ may increase? Lord, may it be so for me.