Great trees have a hold on the earth we cannot match. They stretch and grow and renew their leaves over such a long time, they fit in their place in the earth–belong to it–in ways we may dream of belonging but never entirely achieve. Unlike the ancient white oak that dances in place on the edge of the golf course near my house, we are not rooted. We roam, and we wander. Much like the flowers or grass in... Read more
It isn’t the poem’s fault. It isn’t the poet’s fault, either. But the same way a verse from the Bible might drive us nuts because it’s been pulled out of context and slapped on a thousand tshirts and tote bags, these lines from this poem makes me roll my eyes so hard they hurt: Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life? The poem is “Summer Day” by Mary Oliver: a... Read more
Time feels like an arrow, released fast and straight and always forward. Time is a line. A path. A road we can follow in only one way: onward. Time is progress, never regress. If the hours on a clock are a somewhat arbitrary measurement of time (something impressed upon me this week when I found myself explaining to my kids why traveling across time zones didn’t actually qualify as time travel), the seasons are the natural shape of time.... Read more
I started my first tray of seeds yesterday: the heirloom viola known as ‘Johnny Jump Ups.’ The pretty packet from Renee’s Garden Seeds assures me they are edible though I have never sprinkled them on salads or used them to decorate a cake. To me, they are simply one of those harbingers of spring–able to withstand cold nights if set out early in pots and willing to seed themselves all over the garden in order to return year after... Read more
The problem with naming this column “Cultivating Glory” is that we can’t rush cultivation, even though I am a little bored of winter themes and worry about boring my readers, too. A life of cultivation follows the curve of the seasons, the way a plow follows the curve of the earth. And there is no speeding up the movements of sun and stars and spinning globe. They are listening to some other voice than mine. I have written about rest, about dreams,... Read more
First. don’t fight it. I know that can be hard to do. My first instinct when I feel that peculiar itch at the back of my throat, is to scream at the heavens, “Dear God! Please no!” It seems there is never a convenient time for illness. February, at least in this wintery northern hemisphere, is prime time for colds and flus and bodily breakdown of every kind. I have a cold. Last February I had the flu (I... Read more
As a gardener, I am currently in a season of subtraction. * We moved to this old farmhouse six years ago, and six years ago we planted an enormous vegetable garden. Raised beds. A white picket fence. An arbor covered in pale pink ‘New Dawn’ roses. But a few months ago, we tore out the garden to make way for a parking lot. Well, not exactly a parking lot, but we needed a new driveway and a new place... Read more
I love new beginnings. I adore happy endings. Well, to be honest, I adore a sad ending, too, as long as it’s beautiful and safely contained within the pages of a book. But what about middles? Despite all of our December caroling about bleak “midwinter,” and whether you call the northern or the southern hemisphere home, February really does feel like the true seasonal middle. Here in my little corner of Pennsylvania, we have already endured weeks of severe cold... Read more
Anyone who ever stood, flummoxed, in the lightbulb aisle of a hardware store knows that light isn’t simply light. Is it warm? Is it white? Is it bright? I admit, I have no idea what to choose in the lightbulb aisle of a hardware store, but I know which light I prefer in the corner of the world that I call home: winter light. * Of course, in January, there is never enough of it. Not only are the... Read more
We are used to thinking of summer days as the lazy ones. Heat presses us into a hammock. Vacation puts us right down in a beach chair. The long sunny days say linger, sit still, right here, for a while. But while the pace of a summer day may be slow, by day’s end I usually find that I have ticked just about everything on my list. Even exercise–so tricky to find time for in winter–fits itself into my day more... Read more
Cultivating Glory
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