reverse threading

the path back is the path forward

Tag Archives: the garden


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pollen is pollen. [kerri’s blog on not-so-flawed wednesday]

“garden??? what garden???” with a particularly-yellow pollen-nose and infinitely sweet amber eyes, he looked at us – after trouncing through our dear westneighbors’ ragweed garden – and insisted, “i didn’t go in the garden!”

oh, dogga.

every time he goes on errands with us, it is his ritual to jump out of the car and beeline down the driveway to the ragweed by the fence. every single time. we expect it. this time – afterwards – it was just a tad bit more obvious. there was evidence. and, even with his i-didn’t-do-it-i-didnt-eat-the-cookie-out-of-the-cookie-jar bright-eyed and happy expression, there was no denying it.

we laughed and told him, “you can’t fool us, doggle-dog.”

despite his best effort at gaslighting us into thinking he had not trampled the raggy ragweed, there was evidence to the contrary. and – facts are facts.

now, surfing in on the facts-are-facts wave, i suppose i could launch into an entire political diatribe about what is happening in this election climate – how, apparently, gaslighting attempts are successfully taking over the good brains of people – despite, well, facts. how treacherous it is to believe hook-line-and-sinker the maga stuff that’s out there, the conspiracy theories undermining good sense, the outrageous lies keeping everyone distracted and placing people now – and in the future of this country – in danger. it’s all in plain sight. and it’s insanity.

but yellow is yellow. and pollen is pollen. it is easily identifiable. it is what it is. and when you see it, you know that the dog has been in the garden. no doubt about it.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this NOT-SO-FLAWED WEDNESDAY

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full of beautiful. [d.r. thursday]

i worry about the ferns. fragile, willowy, tender shoots determinedly growing up from under the pile of leaves waiting, decaying, protecting the garden through fall’s end and winter’s scourge until, finally, spring. and then, there they are. despite it all. back in the northwest corner of the yard, tucked in along the fence line and next to the old garage.

they start slowly, peeking out, and then – voila – they are taller, taller, and unraveling their curly tops, like a modern dancer, curling up one vertebrae at a time, opening and embracing dappled sunlight. without concern for any part of history or future, they just grow. they are perennials, so keeping them healthy – a bit of simple nurture – ensures this fern garden in the back of our yard.

i’ve grown other plants in this yard through the years. ornamental grasses, day lilies, ferns, hosta, a couple peonies, these are the thrivers. purple iris, black-eyed susans, a planted lavender garden all fell to the wayside.

the neighbor’s snow-on-the-mountain, creeping under the fence, devoured the iris. wild mustard gave the black-eyed susans a run. the lavender was taken over by boxwood elder on a rampage.

but the delicate ferns…through dogdog’s puppyhood and now his adulthood…through the drought and maybe too much sun and maybe too much rain…through the late-late springs and the early winters…have survived.

in each of them i see the fortitude of the dancer, practicing unfurling vertebrae by vertebrae, forgetting all else – all negativity, all lack, all the torrential storms – in the tender, rich, vibrant forward-movement of now. full of beautiful.

“there is an entire forest
full of the most incredible flowers,
plants and trees inside you,
and you are ignoring all of it to nurture a single tree
that they planted inside your heart and abandoned.

the people who left you this way
don’t deserve to become your favourite stories to tell.
you are a massive forest full of beautiful and vibrant stories
and every single one of them deserves you more
than those that abandoned you to hell.”

(nakita gill – a forest story)

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

visit DAVID’S gallery … full of beautiful


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forget-me-nots. [k.s. friday]

A0, B0, C1 are missing. entirely. gone. they have disintegrated and have dissolved into the ashy dirt of the piano. it is likely that if we planted the forget-me-not seeds we received when our beloved babycat died, tiny blue flowers would grow, for this spot – the lowest on the keyboard – seems rich soil. though we do not see A-zero, B-zero, C-one, the tones are still there, the timbre of these lowest notes ever-present, the grounding of all else still grounded.

“wherever you are, that’s where i will be…” is needlepointed in an old black frame on the wall in the bedroom. in the way that notes forever linger in the air, that frequencies dance waiting for us to listen, i know that this is also true: those whom we love surround us any where we go, any where we are, they are a whisper away. i plant virtual forget-me-nots each time i speak of or ‘to’ my sweet momma, my poppo, my big brother, dear ones who have gone on. i plant virtual forget-me-nots each time i hold close in embrace or in mind those whom i love who are here, whether near or far. the garden is lush with these tiny blooms, the wind a symphony, even maybe a gentle cacophony, of harmonics, seeding my steps each day.

in the midst of it all – changes and challenges, absolute joys and abysmal sadnesses – all that has been whirls around us, all that will be beckons us. we pick and choose the bouquet each day…our words and actions, our intentions. we learn and grow and send roots while at the same time becoming tall and independent and resourceful and capable of blooming.

yet, the wisdom of the ages, the ages themselves, are where we are. the notes play and the harmonics ring. the flowers blossom and spread and the wind takes on seeding, propagating on breezes and stout gales, encircling us. the universe cheers for us. we try to believe it is, ultimately, on our side. as albert einstein encouraged, ‘the most important decision we make is whether we believe we live in a friendly or hostile universe.’ we can bring nutrients or malnutrition to the garden.

the low notes swirl. still there. and all those who have loved us, all those we have loved, all those who love us, all those we love, the greater spiritual power in each of our lives – there. always with us. rich soil for our every single day.

*****

ALWAYS WITH US – from AS IT IS (kerri sherwood)

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read DAVID’S thoughts this K.S. FRIDAY

ALWAYS WITH US from AS IT IS ©️ 2004 kerri sherwood