Posted on April 25, 2012 by Jennifer Wolfe
I rolled over and padded downstairs
Anticipating rich, creamy nectar
In my chosen avocado green mug.
“Good morning,” he called
His familiar smile crinkly from sleep.
“Not really,” I grunted, and
Retreated into myself.Seeking solace, I slithered into the garden.
“Good morning,” she mouthed
Her icy blue petals delicate and tall.
“Not really,” I sighed, and
Stepped further.
“Smile,” she breathed
Her cheerful words bright and welcoming.
“Not yet,” I hissed, and
Kept going.
“Come closer,” she mouthed
Her vivid scent intoxicating and deep.
I paused
Closed my eyes
Breathed deeply
Relented
And murmured,
“Good morning.”
Posted on March 17, 2012 by Jennifer Wolfe
Winter keeps stopping and starting, the calendar keeps turning, and the snow and rain keep falling. Looking out my window, I see the rosebushes budding and the weeds catching up with them. Too overworked to find time for passions right now, the garden groans in sad neglect.
Daylight saving time meant we begin to wake in the dark and fumble for direction. Three days will bring the vernal equinox, reminding us to center and celebrate the rebirth of ourselves and our surroundings.
My tomato plants huddle on the porch, waiting to be released into the soil with room to stretch out and smile. Twenty plus calendar boxes await before we break out the Easter baskets of candy and treats and formally welcome our vacation. This year, we will search in the snow for our golden eggs and hope for the sun to warm our souls.
The zucchini, the peppers and sunflowers must wait for now. Work will need to be done to prepare for you. For now, the rain mists down and fills us in preparation for what is sure to come.
Posted on October 22, 2011 by Jennifer Wolfe
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| Cameron in a Nicaraguan produce marketSometimes as I’m moving around in my day, an image gets stuck in my head that I can’t shake. Sometimes it conjures up a memory, a feeling, or provides an impulse to do something. Often, though, I just see something that I want to capture in my mind for no particular reason-it just speaks to me. I’d like to offer these images up for ‘thought contributions’-as a way to generate a community of ideas together.
At this time of year, it’s all about the harvest. Crops are ripe, summer gardens are being sowed and then tilled under in preparation for winter planting. But my garden this year – not so good. I tallied less than a dozen tomatoes, and four measley peppers. And this wasn’t due to lack of effort or care-I tilled, composted, fertilized, watered, planted and tended my crops from last April til now. I guess this just wasn’t the year. Mother Nature didn’t cooperate – our cool northern California spring wasn’t the right temperature to set fruit. Our usual one hundred degree plus summer heat never really materialized, leaving valley farmers shaking their heads and hoping for the best. Me? I keep my plants in, hoping that those green orbs will somehow ripen if I just have faith.
So today’s Friday Photo reminded me of what an abundant life I have. No matter what happens to my own garden, I will have enough. I have resources to get what I need. It might not be directly from my own hands, but it will be fresh, healthy, available and enough to sustain me and my family. In today’s photo my son marvels at the bounty we found in Ciudad Dario, Nicaragua. Gorgeous produce can be had there for mere pennies-but to many Nicaraguans, pennies are like diamonds. Produce is grown on your own land, and a luxury to purchase. There are no ‘bulk buys’ or prepackaged warehouse size amounts. People simply buy what they can, only what they need.
I enter this harvest season with a heart full of gratitude, and a faith that next year, my harvest will be that of my own making. What hopes do you have for the next year? Will you have an abundant harvest? |
