260. The shortest day has passed, and whatever nastiness of weather we may look forward to in January and February, at least we notice that the days are getting longer. ~Vita Sackville-West

January 26, 2014 by nataliescarberry

January is the quietest month in the garden.
. . .But just because is looks quiet
doesn’t mean that nothing is happening.
The soil, open to the sky, absorbs the pure rainfall
while microorganisms convert tilled-under fodder
into usable nutrients for the next crop of plants.
The feasting earthworms tunnel along,
aerating the soil and preparing it to welcome
the seeds and bare roots to come.
~Rosalie Muller Wright

I’ve heard it said that “the color of springtime is in the flowers” whereas “the color of winter is in the imagination.” Thankfully I’ve got a good imagination, and when that fails, I have a large collection of photos to look back on because by the end of January my spirit is in dire need of a boost. A place I like to frequent also helps to keep my imagination alive and well. It’s a nursery, and this particular Dallas nursery not only has a great selection of flowers during the growing seasons, but year round it has all sorts of indoor plants too. In addition to the plants it has an oak cabinet with drawers full of fascinating seeds, racks of seed packets, shelves filled with gardening books, and an array of tools. So between the plant and seed catalogs that start arriving in the mail after Christmas and my visits to Nicholson-Hardie’s nursery, the “dream” is kept alive even when the under-the-surface busy but ravaged-atop January garden appears to be completely shut down. And it is this “stuff” of which gardener’s dreams are made that keeps my imagination churning and my head full of schemes, schemes that are the spice of a gardener’s life. What a blessing is our memory, our imagination, and our ability to dream; God is so good.

I will praise the name of God with a song; I will magnify Him with thanksgiving. ~Psalm 69:30 ✝

The hidden things you do not know

January 26, 2014 by nataliescarberry

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Call to me and I will answer you, and will tell you great and hidden things that you have not known.
Jeremiah 33:3

(a pair of Cardinals/ Julie Cook / 2014)

The still small voice of God

Would we not assume it to be LOUD, LARGE, BIGGER THAN LIFE, ATTENTION GRABBING?
Yet experience teaches that God does not operate as we do or as we would–which is truly our blessing.

We might think a big name Ad agency should be hired. High tech, glitzy commercials, billboards, neon lights. . . run a spot during the Super Bowl—yeah that’s it, the Super Bowl. Use George Clooney or Heidi Klum as a spokesperson.
Offer some sort of give away—a new iPad, a new camera, a new car. A five nights, all expenses paid, trip to Disney–yeah that’s it, Disney.

Maybe we should Google the reviews to that Still Small Voice.
How many…

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259. If you look the right way, you can see that the whole world is a garden. ~From THE SECRET GARDEN by Frances Hodgson Burnett

January 25, 2014 by nataliescarberry

At that moment a very good thing was happening to her. Four good things had happened to her, in fact, since she came to Misselthwaite Manor. She had felt as if she had understood a robin and that he had understood her; she had run in the wind until her blood had grown warm; she had been healthily hungry for the first time in her life; and she had found out what it was to be sorry for someone. ~Excerpted from THE SECRET GARDEN by Frances Hodgson Burnett

My first move of the day is from the bed to my recliner so I can sit a while and enjoy whatever is going on out in the yard. I’ve still not seen any robins, but as I kept watching the Cardinals come today to my feeders, their flashes of red were enough to bring thoughts of Burnett’s novel, The SECRET GARDEN. Her inspirational tale of transformation and empowerment for two children with very dim outlooks and prospects touches my heart on several different levels. When Mary finds the key to the secret garden, the “magical” powers of transformation come within her reach, and eventually she and Colin are “saved” and offered the prospects of present and future goodness and happiness. I didn’t begin gardening until much later in life than they, but my discovery of the healing power inherent in all living things and God’s abiding presence in Creation was a pivotal moment of transformation in my life as well. So I decided to post some lines from the novel tonight along with photographs (via Pinterest) in hopes of relaying the Divine’s “magic” that captured Mary, Colin, and me.

“Nothing in the world is quite as adorably lovely as a robin when he shows off and they are nearly always doing it.”

“…the immense, tender, terrible, heart-breaking beauty and solemnity of Eggs.”

“Never thee stop believin’ in th’ Big Good Thing an’ knowin’ th’ world’s full of it – and call it what tha’ likes. Tha’ wert singin’ to it when I come into t’ garden.”

“There’s naught as nice as th’ smell o’ good clean earth, except th’ smell o’ fresh growin’ things when th’ rain falls on ’em.”

“And the secret garden bloomed and bloomed and every morning revealed new miracles.”

“However many years she lived, Mary always felt that ‘she should never forget that first morning when her garden began to grow.”

The Lord is my strength and my might, and He has become my salvation; this is my God, and I will praise Him, my father’s God, and I will exalt him. ~Exodus 15:2 ✝

258. If your heart is straight with God, then every creature will be to you a mirror of life and a book of holy doctrine. ~Thomas à Kempis

January 24, 2014 by nataliescarberry

If you have men who will exclude any of God’s creatures
from the shelter of compassion and pity,
you will have men who deal likewise with their fellow man.
~St. Francis of Assisi

Between the houses on our street and the ones on the street behind us run power lines which also function as a sort of “interyard” highway for our sizable squirrel population. During the course of a day’s time the squirrels run back and forth and back and forth along the elevated “freeway” that exits on various nearby “farm to market” tree branch roads. From there they scamper down to the ground below or up to their hand built “high rise condos” or take “fence-line” lanes into adjoining yards. When not engaged in foraging for food or water they playfully chase each other round and round. Their spunky antics whilst doing so are often engagingly comical, and the agility with which they perform daring acrobatics with no fail-safe never ceases to amaze me.

The fluffy-tailed creatures seem to have little fear of me, but they become alarmed if and when a feral cat begins to stalk them. To date, though they’ve barely escaped being pounced upon a time or two, they’ve perceived the threat in time and avoided being captured by scampering up, up, and away into places too lofty for most cats to follow. Afterwards the escapee sometimes stays on high making chicken-like noises, until I, the games keeper, chase the predator away, or the cat grows weary of the clucking and leaves of its own accord, or the squirrel’s attention is diverted to or by something else.

The earth, its resources, and its creatures are a part of a holy, good deposit. And because I’ve always felt a closeness to and reverence for Creation, I try to be a good steward of my deposit–my home, my family, and my little patch of Eden. To that end through the National Wildlife Federation, my yard has been established as a wildlife habitat– a sacred sanctuary for me and all who dwell in or come here to visit.

Guard the good deposit that was entrusted to you–guard it with the help of the Holy Spirit who lives in us. 2 Timothy 1:14 ✝

257. The tree is a slow, enduring force straining the win the sky. ~Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

January 23, 2014 by nataliescarberry

Have you ever noticed a tree
standing naked against the sky, how beautiful it is?
All its branches outlined and in its nakedness,
there is a poem, there is a song…
When the spring comes, it again fills the tree
with the music of many leaves.
And this is the way of life.
~J. Krishnamurti

Trees don’t just provide shade or rhyme and lyric for mortals; they are frequented by and home to an assortment of wildlife. For example birds not only perch and sing in their lofty heights; they build nests in them as do squirrels who also use the branches as connecting highways to get them from one branch or tree to another. When it’s winter as it is now and the trees are leafless, I can see the little fluffy-tailed acrobats make leaps, sometimes very daring ones, from one branch or tree to another as they work back and forth or up and down gathering acorns and building nests. This week while I was observing their antics, I started looking at the differing filigreed patterns of our naked trees. It was then I noticed the combined density of several trees in the northeast corner of our lot. They obscure the heavens now almost as much as they would when in full leaf. In this aerial thicket of woodiness the horizontal branches of my willow tree cross in front of the vertical branches of neighboring trees, and so their poetry or music is more of a series of mingled couplets or vocal duets as they make their “endless efforts to speak to the listening heavens.”

The trees of the field shall know that I am the Lord… ~Ezekiel 17:23a ✝

256. The best place to seek God is in a garden. You can dig for Him there. ~George Bernard Shaw

January 22, 2014 by nataliescarberry

Flower in the crannied wall,
I pluck you out of the crannies.
I hold you here root and all, in my hand flower–
but if I could understand what you are
root and all, and all in all,
I should know what God and man is!
~Alfred Lord Tennyson

Whenever I read Tennyson’s poem or see a garden wall I think of Burnett’s novel, THE SECRET GARDEN, and then I find myself trying to imagine what Tennyson’s crannied wall and the garden walls at Misselthwaite Manor looked like. I’ve read that walled growing spaces date back to the earliest of Persian gardens and that their function, especially in the northern temperate zones, was to shelter a garden from frost and wind. Since purportedly the sheltering walls raised the ambient temperature inside a garden by several degrees, I’m guessing they were made of heavy stones. Although the garden walls in Tennyson’s poem and Hodgson’s novel no doubt were constructed similarly and to serve the same purpose, the practicality of such, is not the point of the two tales. The two literary pieces have to do with the impact of encountering the Ancient of Days or the contemplation of His mystery that often takes place within a garden’s walls. Every garden in a very real sense is a piece of Eden, and in Eden man inevitably encountered Him by whose Hands both he and it were made. As Tennyson grasped the entirety of a little flower in his hand, he voiced a firm belief that comprehending its mystery would lead to an unraveling of the ultimate conundrum, man and God. And in THE SECRET GARDEN the lives of two children were resurrected and subsequently infused with that same mysterious “stuff of life” after holy “place” and “elemental” grace had had their way with them.

And the Lord God planted a garden in Eden, in the east; that there he put man whom he had formed…They heard the sound of the Lord God walking in the garden at the time of the evening breeze… ~Genesis 2:8 and Genesis 3:8a ✝

255. Joy is the holy fire that keeps our purpose warm and our intelligence aglow. ~Helen Keller, American author and educator

January 21, 2014 by nataliescarberry

Who is the happiest of men? He who values the merits of others,
and in their pleasure takes joy, even as though t’were his own.
~Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, German writer and Politician

One of my fellow bloggers commented today about the beauty in one of my posts and said she needed the joy. It was such a blessing to know that I had spread some joy in the life of another. So tonight I thought I would share some thoughts about joy. And since this week is A.A. Milne’s birthday I decided to use some illustrations from his book to help do that. Milne was the English author who brought so much joy not only to children but also to those of us fortunate enough to have read the Winnie the Pooh stories to our children.

Joy is not in things; it is in us. ~Richard Wagner, German composer

The sun does not shine for a few trees and flowers, but for the wide world’s joy. ~Henry Ward Beecher, Congregational minister

Sometimes your joy is the source of your smile, but sometimes your smile can be the source of your joy. ~Thich Nhat Hanh, Vietnamese Monk and Writer

He who has never looked on sorrow will never see joy. ~Kahlil Gibran, Lebanese born American philosophical Essayist, Novelist, Poet

Joy is the net of love by which you can catch souls. ~Mother Teresa, Missionary

Joy delights in joy. ~William Shakespeare, English Dramatist, Playwright, Poet

But let all who take refuge in you(God) rejoice; let them ever sing for joy. Spread your protection over them, so that those who love your name may exult you. ~Psalm 5:10-12 ✝

254. January opens the box of the year and brings out days that are bright and clear and brings out days that are cold and gray and shouts, “Come see what I brought today!” ~Leland B. Jacobs

January 20, 2014 by nataliescarberry

Is it winter? Is it not?
Is it cold? Is it hot?
The two-headed Janus knows not.

Where I live unseasonable warming trends often occur in January, and when the month keeps its “box” open-ended long enough, some things in the garden are duped into thinking it’s time to get going. If the lie that spring is upon us continues on into February, that month as well is made a partner in the deceiving treachery. Then when the wintry weather falls back into place and worsens, as it nearly always does, the new growth is the innocent victim of the two traitorous libertines. Such is exactly what happened last year when they were finally exposed as the charlatans they were by a mid-February ice storm. After weeks of mild weather, frigid rain descended from a whitish cloud cover blown in on arctic winds. As the temperatures fell from the 70’s and 80’s to well below the freezing mark and everything became encapsulated in tombs of ice, an almost audible death knell sounded. For days the sun was unable to burn a hole in the clouds, and while the storm’s icy bite endured, the birds who over winter in my yard were, if visible at all, seen only in the mornings. When they were present, I’d see them huddled close to their birdhouses or in the bay tree or azaleas near the house, but by afternoon they’d have disappeared completely into the day’s dismal gloom. Neither did I see any of my neighbors nor the squirrels who’d been so busy as of late, and that collective absence of life forms led to a disturbing sense of aloneness that I did not like at all.

Be merciful to me, O God, be merciful to me, for in you my soul takes refuge; in the shadow of your wings I will take refuge, until the destroying storms pass by. Psalm 57:1 ✝

253. Blue color is everlastingly appointed by the Deity to be a source of delight. ~John Ruskin

January 19, 2014 by nataliescarberry

I’m a native of Europe and Siberia.
My name comes from the Greek word meaning “Dolphin.”
My dried flowers were used to dress wounds at the Battle of Waterloo.
European settlers made ink from my dried flowers.
I was used by West Coast Native Americans to make blue dye.
I’ve been said to represent the tears of the Virgin Mary.
Who am I? My name is Delphinium.
I can be blue and I’m beautiful.

Blue is a popular color in the garden perhaps because it is relatively rare one in the plant world. In fact, blue is said to be the most rare of colors amongst flowers. Thus I am blessed to live in a place whose state flower is blue and whose landscape in places becomes covered in seas of bluebonnets for several weeks every spring. Also, though Delphinium is not a staple in our landscape, they appear in pots in the nurseries this time of year before much, if anything, is blooming outside. So I can, like I did last week, buy some to brighten the drab days of winter. Both of the ones I got this year were marked as blue, but now that the second one is opening, I see that it’s going to be purple. But hey, who am I to complain since purple is another of my favorite colors, and it too is often hard to come by in the garden. Regardless of the color, now that I know that at one time delphiniums represented Mary’s tears, I’ll have yet another way of remembering what my salvation cost Mary and her precious son, the Christ.

May those who sow in tears reap with shouts of joy. ~Psalm 126:5 ✝

252. Look deep into nature, and then you will understand everything better. ~Albert Einstein

January 18, 2014 by nataliescarberry

The cycle of nature—the progress from seed to fruition to dying-off and then renewal in the spring—was mirrored in the wild fields and the cultivated garden alike, while the fragility of harvest—the possible interruption of the cycle by drought, wind, or other natural calamities— established the pattern of how humans understood the workings of the cosmos. The oldest of surviving sacred stories have their roots in the garden and reflect how humanity sought to understand the changeable patterns of their world… ~Peg Streep

There is nothing better for mortals than to eat and drink, and find enjoyment in their toil. This also, I saw, is from the hand of God; for apart from him who can eat or who can have enjoyment. For to the one who pleases him God gives wisdom and knowledge… ~Ecclesiastes 2:24-26a ✝

**In the photo is a pink poppy in bloom next to one that has already lost the petals which surrounded its seed pod.

Sacred Touches

Life is a time of purpose and anointed blossoming…