Today, October 28th, with the wind and with temperatures in the high 30s, my wife, Ann, four neighbors and I prepared Prospect Gardens for the rigors of winter. Today's experience reminded me of the following poem. Kelly, our First Unitarian Community Life Minister, included the poem in a course for parents about spirituality that she and I lead. After reading the poem, take a few minutes to reflect on the question it raises.
Dancing in the Wind by Rev. David Bumbaugh
Except
for a few stubborn holdouts
the tree
outside my window
is bare
of leaves.
The wind,
this October morning,
worries
those few remaining leaves,
pulling
them this way,
twisting
them that way,
tugging
at them until,
one by
one,
exhausted
by the ceaseless effort
to hang
on,
they go
dancing with the wind.
As they
waltz past my window,
the
stubbornness has left them
and they
are finally free.
What is
it about living things
that we
expend so much energy
resisting
the inevitable,
hanging
on to that which is already gone,
hoping to
sustain a season into times
that are
unseasonable,
clinging
to old habits
despite
the pain and discomfort?
Why are
we so afraid to dance in the wind?
Gardening at Prospect Gardens continues to raise questions of life for me. Today's session reminded me of my aging body as I hacked away at the dried out, brown six foot tall Rudbeckia that when planted were marketed as maturing to no more than four feet tall. Ah... the unpredictability of life and gardening. As the poem implies, one must learn how to dance with this unpredictability, let go and I would add, enjoy the dance to the extent possible.
With this aside, enjoy the following seven pictures from today's Prospect Gardens dance.
A section of the Gardens before we begin. Note the extent of green. Tonight, frost is predicted and I welcome and embrace this change. Our apartment, with south and west windows, makes a cozy refuge from the rigors of winter. I will continue to enjoy this Fall season of transition, while anticipating the first snow fall.
Here are remnants of those tall Rudbackia that I previously mentioned. Many still remain on the upper levels on the Regent side of the Gardens, waiting to be removed. Perhaps next week, we will get at them.
The large pile of plant material. A testimony of our work and the lushness of the season's Gardens. It's been a great season for flowers and of course, weeds. Last Wednesday, the city disconnected our water supply from the nearby fire hydrant. The water bill will be minimal because of the abundant rain this season. The two neighborhood associations who pay the bill will be happy.
Loren joined us for awhile. Thanks for pitching in. He donated two clippers after discovering he had three of each in his garage. We will put them to good use. Thanks, Loren, for this too.
Here's Ann N. all bundled up and pausing from her labors. Thanks, Ann, for joining the crew on this blustery day.
With this aside, enjoy the following seven pictures from today's Prospect Gardens dance.
Recall that last Saturday, we were basking in 70 degree weather. Ann and I hosted another UW Homecoming celebration, the 31st year. Once again my two brothers and their wives, a couple that I have known for years, and a long-time friend and his girlfriend gathered. We celebrated our lives and connections to the university. This year Ann and I went to the game. Its been a long time since we last attended. While I enjoyed the ritual, the noise level was so high, that I removed my hearing aids; another indicator of time passing.
Joyce and Laura posing with tools in hand. They were working the section in the first picture of this series. Thanks for coming out on a chilly day and once again contributing to maintaining the Gardens.
Here's Laura, Joyce and Ann N. taking a break and enjoying poppy seed cake with peach preserve. Ann, my wife, once again made the treat. She makes sure that we all take a break. I sometime forget about the passing of time.
As 3:30 pm approached, we gathered up the tools and I hauled them to the old shed bordering the Gardens. The shed, like me, has aged. It's been there for many years, long before the railroad tracks were transformed into the commuter path, now enjoyed by so many Madisonians.
Before putting the tools away, I pulled out the orange plastic snow fence, making it more accessible. Installing the fences is yet another task before the Gardens experience winter.
Got home and after checking email I jumped into the shower. The hot water felt so pleasant as it washed some of the aches from this body.
The eighth season of gardening is fast coming to an end. I do not obsess about the day when gardening for me will end. Heeding the poem's message, I will let this cycle of life end without resistance and stubbornness. The dance in the winds of life will continue.
As 3:30 pm approached, we gathered up the tools and I hauled them to the old shed bordering the Gardens. The shed, like me, has aged. It's been there for many years, long before the railroad tracks were transformed into the commuter path, now enjoyed by so many Madisonians.
Before putting the tools away, I pulled out the orange plastic snow fence, making it more accessible. Installing the fences is yet another task before the Gardens experience winter.
Got home and after checking email I jumped into the shower. The hot water felt so pleasant as it washed some of the aches from this body.
The eighth season of gardening is fast coming to an end. I do not obsess about the day when gardening for me will end. Heeding the poem's message, I will let this cycle of life end without resistance and stubbornness. The dance in the winds of life will continue.
