By now, those of you who are regular readers are probably aware that I am a rather proud nerd. I have no problem telling the world that I do, in fact, recite poetry when I'm out in my garden. Actually, I can be found quoting snippets of poems in just about any venue, which can sometimes make others feel a bit uncomfortable, I've found. At least, it occasionally draws a raised eyebrow or two. No matter. I recite on, undaunted. But there's something about being in the garden, in particular, that calls to mind a few of my favorite poems.
This past weekend was an absolute source of delight, and I might add, real succour. I found myself frequently exhaling deeply, as I spent almost the entire weekend outside. Some people do not have any interest in gardening. I get that. Plenty of activities don't interest me much at all. I must admit, however, that I am suspicious of people who do not derive any pleasure from being in gardens or seeing flowers. Sitting on the swing in the secret garden this weekend, I began hearing Wordsworth's "The World Is Too Much with Us" in my head. I was quite relieved not to feel implicated by his words in the first several lines:
The world is too much with us; late and soon,
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers;—
Little we see in Nature that is ours;
We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!
This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon;
The winds that will be howling at all hours,
And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers;
For this, for everything, we are out of tune;
It moves us not. (Lines 1-9)
One might argue that my garden is too much with me, late and soon, but I find such joy and comfort by being out in nature and being more in tune with it. I like being moved by the smallest changes in the garden, and this weekend really started revealing many more transformations.
It seems as if everything is happening at once in the garden, but I know that it can't be, because I know there are so many other things still coming on. I'm in a constant state of anticipation. The hydrangeas are now blooming in the front garden, joining the roses, salvias, Euryops, and Gaillardias that have been flowering for some time now.
|The first hydrangea flower of the year|
|Dahlia 'Sneezy' looking a little shy|
|Four baby figs on this branch alone!|
|Another plumeria flower unwinding|
And for all this, nature is never spent;
There lives the dearest freshness deep down things (lines 9-10)
And that's it. That's the great miracle of nature. It moves me every day.
|The 'Jackmanii' Clematis bursting into flower|