Experience has taught me this,
that we undo ourselves by impatience.
Misfortunes have their life and their limits,
their sickness and their health.
~Michel de Montaigne, an influential writer of the French Renaissance
Since I began gardening each season of the year has sent my senses reeling. Seasonal beginnings bewitch me beyond measure with their new colors, their new shapes, and their new textures. And in the maelstrom of those first sensory delights before any sort of rhythmic repetitiveness sets in, there is something soothing and therapeutic for the healing of spiritual or physical wounds. It’s as if there’s an ointment or a medicinal elixir in the uptake of each particular season’s magic and mystery that boosts endorphins and spurs on the healing process. Or maybe the analgesic lies simply in the process of moving from one season to the next, each one proclaiming that everything is limited, even the worst of things, and that eventually everything passes into something new and fresh.
He changes times and seasons; He deposes kings and raises up others. He gives wisdom to the wise and knowledge to the discerning. ~Daniel 2:21 ✝