Have you also learned that secret from the river; that there is no such thing as time?" That the river is everywhere at the same time, at the source and at the mouth, at the waterfall, at the ferry, at the current, in the ocean and in the mountains, everywhere and that the present only exists for it, not the shadow of the past nor the shadow of the future.

~ Herman Hesse, Siddhartha


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Wind scares me. Living under trees - mostly pine and sweetgum - I think about them falling, bending, breaking over my worldly things. I worry about the strain and stress that will come when the wind has blown one time in just the right way and the damage it will leave behind. I worry. I am a worrier. And the wind really makes me worry. Walking around and seeing the debris and the small insignificant amount of time I will spend cleaning up I am grateful to our trees for standing tall in the weather the subtle way they do. I am also aware that we are lucky and will be praying for everyone who has not been as fortunate as we were this time. Wind ushers change - often devastating change. Please support as best you can all the people in all the places that have been touched by wind, fire, rain, flooding, and smoke. Pay attention to the needs we don't easily see and give where you are able to lovingly. This is not a time in our history of being human to be selfish. There is much work to be done - on every level possible.



This flower is perfectly imperfect and yet when you walk by it unless you are looking for the imperfections you simply don't see them.. only the beauty stands out..





Every year when this flower blooms I am reminded my of Grandma Rabun.  She was probably the kindest most loving woman I have ever known.  She gave me these bulbs when I was very young and I have carried them with me everywhere I have lived.  I look forward to them bursting out of their tightly wrapped buds overflowing with textures and patterns and silky petals.  An iris's center - the perfect sneak peek to the coming orgasmic explosion waiting for just the right moment to erupt.  

I started gardening because of these flowers.  I had to have a place for them.  My grandmother did not have a lot when she left this earth other than her family and her flowers.  And with the planting of her bulbs in my new home as a youngly married princess to my prince charming came my love of the earth in a whole new way.  As I consider this it is funny to me now because everyone in my family always had a lovely vegetable patch and I spent most of my summer days in them..

but those..

those were vegetables. 

An Iris is a flower.. A stunning work of beauty that bursts out of the leaves on a single fragile stem for all to see, but they do not let us forget they are there quietly waiting all year with their triangular pointed leaves..


Iris's brought this rebellious soul back to the garden in the most subtle way - in the way only my Grandma Rabun could have taught me to do it.

And, so, with every Spring I wait.  I watch.  I tend the garden around the bulbs making sure we're all set for this growing season.  When my Grandma's beautiful irises arrive I make sure I turn my eyes to them daily until they are all done for another season and then, I get back to my vegetables.. (the way she would have wanted me to).


If you ask me to show you God, I will point to the sun, or a tree, or a worm. But if you say, "You mean, then, that God is the sun, the tree, the worm, and all other things?" - I shall have to say that you have missed the point entirely.

~ Alan Watts