In the Weeds, and It Helped

The darkness descended again and thank God, I was able to emerge from it--by pulling weeds in the side garden, along the front pathway, around the tomato and pepper plants.  Picking up the debri from Dan’s clippers, stuffing a tall brown paper lawn & leaf bag with unwanted stragglers and hauling the bag to the curb for pickup.

Dan mowed the lawn, which also lifted my spirits. Flowering plants and shrubs look so much better against freshly cut grass. Like fine diamond earrings worn with a torn, rumpled dress, the beauty and pop of orange nasturtium and scarlet runner beans gets lost against a shaggy, unkempt lawn. The blue hydrangea flowers--we called them snowballs in my childhood home--look messy and spent against neglected grass.

I see the metaphor. I can crowd out darkness from my life by working to let in light and beautiful new growth. It doesn’t happen without effort, but the effort pays off. Those weeds were about to choke the wildflowers and take over the single tiny green bell pepper, hanging valiantly from the plant. [The deer have been eating our sunflowers, which is depressing, because we try nurture those bright blooms. A few resilient ones are hanging on, not open yet.]]

Thank you for caring. I couldn’t bring myself to post last night, as the sadness ran deep.