I was out in my garden early this morning, enjoying a leisurely breakfast outdoors. What a lovely weekend treat. I noticed the dew had settled on the leaves of the Lady’s Mantle – spheres of water suspended – little globes reflecting light and shade, cupped in the segments of this leafy plant. The morning dew had down the watering for me!
And then I looked at the flowerbed and thought of all the plants that the good earth had given me – without me lifting a finger to plant them: the buddleia, with its aqua-grey leaves and silver furred stems surging up, shoot by shoot, to become, soon enough, a butterfly bush – with cones of purple honey flowers; the holly – cleverly having planted itself at the back of the bed – with dark green, thick leaves, spiked and protected, sending up new leaves from the centre; pulmonaria with its oval-tipped leaves of light green dotted at intervals with cream-coloured spots – eventually it will shoot up pink, blue, purple jewels; and an oak sappling! Preparing its presence for the next hundred years or two, to be home to birds beyond number and insects galore; and the vetch climbing high in the too-tall grass, whose miniature sweet-pea flowers of magenta pink look so cheerful, and whose seed pods are tasty, teasing morsels for hovering sparrows.
Life has its own energy – and abundantly so! I think it’s for us to live in thay glory.