Gardening, Storms, Memories & a Poem

Woke up about 2:30 a.m. Saturday morning to the sound of rain hammering on the windows and the metal siding of our apartment building. I peaked out between the blinds of our large bedroom window and witnessed sheets of rain pouring down, trees swaying in the powerful wind, and the intersection of Monroe and Knickerbocker Streets filling up with water. Later I learned that five inches of rain fell during the storm.

 A Prospect Gardens work session was scheduled to start at 9 a.m.  This storm was not in the forecast, while predicted were 90 degree temperatures by noon.  Ann and I arrived at the Gardens before 8:30 am.  In several places I could see where torrents of water passed through the Gardens. I was relieved to see minimal damage to the Gardens.  Yet, the Ox Eyed daisies, once proud and stately, now bowed to Mother Earth. 

We persisted despite the rising temperatures as the morning unfolded. Along with Ann and I, the stalwarts were Loren, Laura and Eli. Thank you so much for tolerating the heat and all that we accomplished.  Here we are taking a break and enjoying Ann's homemade brownies.

 Most of the morning involved removing Bishops' Weed as Laura is doing in this picture. This plant's continuous presence is a lesson in practicing patience and acceptance.  After all, Bishops' Weed does provide ground cover. Yet at times I feel discouraged about keeping this aggressive invader at bay.

The rip rock, such as the pile pictured here, complicates removal of Bishops' Weed. Their roots and tubers go under the rock into the soil. This pile is the result of removing rock from a section of the Garden and more remains. Sometime during the upcoming week, I may remove more. Then I will replace with topsoil and plant grasses donated by Nate, a neighbor.  Thanks, Nate.

While removing rocks, a man stopped and offered his thanks for me tending the Gardens. He said that I was doing God's work. I replied that when it comes to the rocks, sometimes I feel like I have encountered the devil's work.

Less taxing than rock removal and more pleasurable is refurbishing the depleted strawberry patch. Here are some of the plants put in early Saturday morning. Ann V., a friend, donated these from her fabulous vegetable garden.  I anticipate strawberries next year.

It's strawberry season. My plans are to visit the Farmers Market around Madison's downtown Square this Saturday and buy berries. Getting there early is always a good idea because by 9 a.m. the sidewalks are jammed. The Market is always a feast for the senses. The colorful flower, vegetable and bakery stands line all four sides of the Square and around the Capitol with its beautiful and well manicured flower beds.

Ann V. also donated this Peace Lily. The white blooms makes this a rather unique Day Lily. I look forward with anticipation to the unfolding beauty that will grace this corner of the Gardens. This one plant will spread and multiply. Thanks Ann V. for including it with the strawberry plants.

It was one o'clock by the time I hauled the equipment in the green plastic wheelbarrow to the shed. My attention turned to the effects of the night time storm.  Here's a downed catalpa tree about a half block south of the Gardens.  A catalpa has a special place in my heart.The tree always reminds me of our wedding celebration. Because of legal requirements in WI, a judge married us in Portland on May 25th, witnessed by two close friends, Darrel and Beth.

Thirty-nine years ago, this July 7th, Ann and I returned from Oregon to celebrate with family and friends. The celebration started with Ann and I repeating our Portland vows under a catalpa tree in the backyard of my brother-in-law Chuck and sister-in-law Kathy's home. A Unitarian Minister officiated.  After a dinner at a nearby restaurant, we returned to Chuck and Kathy's home and continued to celebrate as the blooming catalpa witnessed our happiness and the joy of family and friends.

 A half block west of Prospect Gardens this giant, a witness to the changes in our neighborhood, gave way to the storm's fury. Trains once rumbled past including, in the early 1950's, steam powered locomotives. Now walkers, runners, parents pushing strollers, unicycles and bikers stream by. Among the bikers are shiny lyric glad youth traveling at a fast pace. Some strike me as having little time to notice aging trees and the passing of time.

On my walk on Saturday afternoon I encountered this scene about a half block from our apartment and near the entrance to Wingra Park. The roof of the buried Prius was caved in and the windshield shattered. Imagine the owner's surprise. Also on my walk I encountered two more downed trees a few blocks west of the Prius.

I started and ended my walk at the annual Jazz in the Park festival, just across the street from our apartment.  Here's the bandstand with the nearby Edgewood College jazz band on stage and my fellow neighbors. You can see Lake Wingra in the background. Temperatures were in the low 90s and most of us were hugging the shade.

As I write this on Sunday afternoon, June 17th, the heat wave continues with a temperature of 91 degrees. Ann and I are content here in the coolness of our air conditioned apartment.  Ah... the marvels of air conditioning.  I recall the hot and sweltering summer nights of my youth in that large square farmhouse. Some of my brothers and sisters would sleep on the front porch or we would move our beds closer to the bedroom window hoping to catch a breeze.

I also remember what my Mother did during fierce storms when lightning flashed and thunder rattled the windows of our farmhouse. She calmly approaches the front of the wood stove in the living room and in her hand are holy palms blessed during that year's Palm Sunday. She  strikes a match, tosses the flaming palms into the stove's firebox and crosses herself while saying in Polish, "In the name of the Father, the Son and Holy Ghost."  She believed that this ritual protected the home and us from a lightning strike. Perhaps it did because lightning never struck the farmhouse or us.

The next Prospect Gardens work session will be June 29th from 1:30 p.m. to 4.  John Imes and his UW Badger Volunteers will be with us. John is the Director of the non-profit, the Environmental Initiative and a primary candidate for our state assembly seat. He and his wife own the Arbor Inn, a former bed and breakfast, in our neighborhood. The Inn is for sale and lodging at the Inn is available through Airbnb, the online reservation system involving staying at private residences.

On the 29th, guess what? We will once again be focusing on Bishops' Weeds, and so life continues. Patience and to some extent acceptance may reign. For now I offer this poem by John O'Donohue for our reflections:

To Come Home to Yourself

May all that is unforgiven in you

Be released.

May your fears yield

Their deepest tranquilities.

May all that is unlived in you

Bloom in the future

Graced by Love.