Thursday, April 4, 2024

The man who planted bergamot

There’s a story, and a book, about the man who planted trees. I have a copy of the Heron Dance published edition. I’m starting to wonder, if I live long enough, if I’ll become know as the man who planted wild bergamot.

Most instructions refer to planting bergamot seeds as if they were more than microscopic in size. Some instructions refer to the plant as liking “wet feet.” Others caution to not over water. The plant prefers either full sun or afternoon shade. The planting medium that came in the seed trays comes close to being unmanageably fluffy which makes providing “good contact with the soil” a challenge. What started as a simple project is rapidly becoming a labor of love. We’ll see how it all turns out. Milestones, if we reach any, will be reported here. Germination is supposed to occur in ten to fourteen days. Stay tuned. Perhaps by the time the bergamot seeds have germinated, our ferns will have emerged and shown their fiddleheads.

photo of fern fiddlehead in April
fern fiddlehead in April
Photo by J. Harrington

When I started this effort, I neglected to do enough research to learn that blossoms are a year two reward. An opportunity to develop my patience has presented itself. As the “Planted Trees” cover notes, “Generosity of Spirit as a Source of Happiness.” I’m slowly, verry slowwly, learning that I can bitch about the world and be miserable, or I can seek joy and happiness, but I can’t multitask both. Most of the time I do try to practice “Yes, and,” but have my limits.

Some time over the next few days the Better Half and I will take a look at the front flower garden and see if we can guess how much damage was done by the extra mild winter followed by the freezing, snowy first week of spring. The reemergence of green, growing things (except for the local poison ivy vines) offers reasons to hope that things will get better, especially if we work for it.


For the Children

by Gary Snyder


The rising hills, the slopes,
of statistics
lie before us,
the steep climb
of everything, going up,
up, as we all
go down.

In the next century
or the one beyond that,
they say,
are valleys, pastures,
we can meet there in peace
if we make it.

To climb these coming crests
one word to you, to
you and your children:

stay together
learn the flowers
go light



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