Do Ya Think I'm Sexy

Well it's late September and I really should be getting back to school... no, that's not right. That's Rod Stewart. Then again I am beginning to think that if a garden could be Rod Stewart this might be what it would look like. Kind of wild and out of control, doesn't know it's getting late in his career so he just keeps belting them out like he was in the spring of his youth.

I had been feeling pretty low because my recent computer meltdown vaporized some important files. I lost things I had been working on and photographs that I will never get back. It hasn't been the best of times, it hasn't been the worst of times and thankfully it hasn't been the winter of my discontent...yet. Winter will come soon enough but for now it's Rod Stewart time in the garden.

You might think that late September would see the summer flowers fading into that golden glow of lowering sunlight. You might think that. You would apparently be wrong as far as my garden is concerned. I certainly was. I had planned on building up the compost pile with worn out old stems and thin wrinkled leaves. Instead I find my garden decked out in tight spandex pants with gold chains hanging down a much too open silk shirt belting out "Hot Legs" and "Do Ya Think I'm Sexy."

Seriously guys, what are you doing putting out poppies in September? And the roses? Not just one or two easy listening ballads but a whole show of spirited full body rockers. The honeysuckle is putting on an entire encore that rivals the original. The nasturtium is refusing to leave the stage and the monarda is acting like Mick Jagger at a groupie convention. Believe it or not I actually have forget-me-nots with tiny flowers and there is even an oriental lily coming up!

Like I said, I have been pretty bummed about the losses on my computer. I was upset about the time and work that was forever lost and photo memories of a great summer that had vanished like real time. (cue the tiny violins) Then I heard the music coming from the garden.

It wasn't a somber dirge or a sad song of lost love and betrayal. No, it was "Do Ya Think I'm Sexy" and "Forever Young" belted out in the bold vibrant colors of youth that knows no limit. A youth that only knows the moment of now and that forever is today. I don't know if I am actually learning anything about gardening but I am sure learning something about living and soaking up the sun while it's shining. Now if you'll excuse me, I have some spandex pants to slip into.

Grace Period

September is an odd month if you think about it. Sure there is the whole going back to school thing and we all tend to think of September as the beginning of fall but it isn’t. Not really. Fall really doesn’t start till you feel that nip in the early morning air or when the dew seems like it might have really been frost just a few minutes ago. September on the other hand doesn’t have the crisp air or the quick silver frost. September is like that hollow place at the end of a relationship when you both know it’s over but you can’t figure out how to end it. Not sad or even melancholy, just sort of in between. There are brief flashes of generous maturity when you pat yourself on the back for letting go so calmly, for embracing the dark mystery of the months ahead.

In September the air is still soft and warm. Late summer flowers still smile toward the failing light of summer’s ghost. There are still plenty of days full of sunshine and forgotten sweaters on the backs of chairs. There will also be haunting days when the sun caresses your skin like a parting lover and you feel the shadow of winter nearby. It is so easy to get caught up in all the busy tasks of a new school year or the final vacations and the preparations for winter. We often overlook this sweet month of transition by tossing it in with autumn. I noticed myself doing it. I grieved that summer was over and worried about how long and dark the winter would be. I began to make plans for long months of indoor living. My imagination dwelled on how cold it might be or if it would be wet and dreary. In other words I looked at the calendar date and went into a resistance posture because summer was officially over.

Then I noticed something. This rose was blooming. As a matter of fact there were buds on all the rose bushes. The fish had come out of hiding from the heron attack and there were two new baby fishes with them; “Chip” and “Nugget”. The light was angled just right to make the sunflowers glow like yellow angels and the blue fescue with the reseeded alyssum looked like fireworks in the morning sun. There were actually still a lot of flowers blooming and even re-blooming. They apparently hadn’t looked at the calendar. They were just eating up every last minute of daylight and they were making seeds for next year. Summer didn’t just end for them, it was winding down. They weren’t clenching up and calling it a day. They were transitioning. They were letting go calmly. September is a time of transition, not of sudden change. It is a time of gently turning our attention to the mystery of a new path and a new direction. September is a month of grace.