Susan's Thursday morning note June 20, 2020 Quotes and thoughts on gardening.
Good morning! So quiet this early. The first gift each morning. Stillness. This morning the sun shows all of the overgrowth of summer with the spiders thoroughly enjoying the extra weeds and garden flowers to spin their designs on during the night. I love the early mornings where I get to be amazed with their designs from just a few hours. Incredible diligence each evening to spin their beautiful webs through my weeds. Following are quotes from the garden. On the beauty of nature and the gifts given generously from the heavens this morning. To show us to look up as the flowers look up. To notice. To hear the birds. To see how beautiful life is regardless of details. I hope these stay in your mind as they replay in mine.
Many years ago there was a monk who needed olive oil, so he planted an olive tree sapling. After he finished planting it, he prayed, "Lord, my tree needs rain so its tender roots may drink and grow. Send gentle showers." And the Lord sent gentle showers. Then the monk prayed, "Lord, my tree needs sun. Please send it sun." And the sun shone, gilding the once-dripping clouds. "Now send frost, dear Lord, to strengthen its branches," cried the monk. And soon the little tree was covered in sparkling frost, but by evening it had died. Then the monk sought out a brother monk in his cell and told him of his strange experience. After hearing the story, the other monk said, "I also have planted a little tree. See how it is thriving! But I entrust my tree to its God. He who made it knows better than a man like me what it needs. I gave God no constraints or conditions, except to pray, "Lord, send what it needs - whether that be a storm or sunshine, wind, rain, or frost. You made it, and you know best what it needs."
“See how the lilies of the field grow.” (Matthew 6:28)
Yes, leave it with Him, The lilies all do, And they grow - They grow in the rain, And they grow in the dew - Yes, they grow: They grow in the darkness, all hid in the night - They grow in the sunshine, revealed by the light - Still they grow. yes, leave it with Him, It's more dear to His heart, You will know, Then the lilies that bloom, Or the flowers that start 'Neath the snow: Whatever you need, if you seek it in prayer, You can leave it with Him - for you are His care. Yes, you know." (unknown)
The best place to seek God is in a garden. You can dig for him there. George Bernard Shaw
God made rainy days so gardeners could get the housework done. Author Unknown
I used to visit and revisit it a dozen times a day, and stand in deep contemplation over my vegetable progeny with a love that nobody could share or conceive of who had never taken part in the process of creation. It was one of the most bewitching sights in the world to observe a hill of beans thrusting aside the soil, or a rose of early peas just peeping forth sufficiently to trace a line of delicate green. Nathaniel Hawthorne
Take thy plastic spade,
It is thy pencil; take thy seeds, thy plants,
They are thy colours.
William Mason, The English Garden, 1782
You can bury a lot of troubles digging in the dirt. Author Unknown
The garden is the poor man’s apothecary. German Proverb
A garden is always a series of losses set against a few triumphs, like life itself. May Sarton
Coffee. Garden. Coffee. Does a good morning need anything else? Betsy Cañas Garmon
I think that if ever a mortal heard the voice of God it would be in a garden at the cool of the day. F. Frankfort Moore
In the garden I tend to drop my thoughts here and there. To the flowers I whisper the secrets I keep and the hopes I breathe. I know they are there to eavesdrop for the angels. Dodinsky
I never had any other desire so strong, and so like to covetousness, as that one which I have had always, that I might be master at last of a small house and a large Garden. Abraham Cowley, The Garden, 1666
The kiss of the sun for pardon,
The song of the birds for mirth,
One is nearer God’s heart in a garden
Than anywhere else on earth.
Dorothy Frances Gurney, “Garden Thoughts
I perhaps owe having become a painter to flowers. – Claude Monet
Let us be grateful to people who make us happy; they are the charming gardeners who make our souls blossom. – Marcel Proust
Thank you for letting me enter your Thursday again! Realizing what truly matters. What matters in five years. What matters eternally. This helps keep the details of our days in perspective. I remember walking into my mom’s home the hour after she died. The stillness. Everything exactly as was left only a few hours earlier. And what I remember more than anything is the realization of all that she concerned herself with daily didn’t matter. How it was all just over. What did matter was what I couldn’t see. Smiles. Quiet moments. Coffee spills on floor meaning there had been a great first taste. Smells. That’s what brought back the memories that weren’t visible in my mind. Those few moments alone in the home put so much of my life now into a different perspective if I only take the time to revisit that moment. Perspective. Time to pet my cat long enough to hear her purr. Time to hold my child when he comes to a halt for 30 seconds a day. Time to watch the same movie over and over so that I’m there when the eyes glance my way to see if I saw what he saw. Time to call instead of write someone I care about. Time. Constantly gone. I can’t catch the moment, but can I take the time to notice the moment? Tonight we have the opportunity to write in stone our epitaph of the moments that are gone today. Will we make them worthy of imprint?
Have a beautiful day. Thank you for your business, your friendship, and letting me enter your Thursday morning again. I hope you can come over – we’ll have the perfect cup of coffee and a smile waiting for you!! Susan
Latin for this week: lilia - lily Rosa rubicundior, lilio candidior, omnibus formosior, semper in te glorior - Redder than the rose, whiter than the lilies, fairer than everything, I will always glory in thee. Works Cited: Cowman, L.B. Streams in the Desert. Grand Rapids. Zondervan Publishing House. 1997.