Monthly Archives: June 2013

Life: Summer Solstice and the Fog

© by Raymond Alexander Kukkee [caption id="attachment_1668" align="aligncenter" width="584"]Fog Lifting Mid-day Fog -Almost Gone[/caption]

Summer Solstice

It was June 21st a couple of days ago, back in the fog of time frittered away, it was  the longest day of the year. Summer solstice, the stuff of legends. Let's play Stonehenge.  Painted faces.  Outdoor parties to sun-up at lakeside all night, everywhere.  Celebrations. Other stuff. In Northwestern Ontario, the longest day of the year doesn't end until the next day.  We have the world's sweetest, fresh evening air to boot, and dark doesn't settle in until 11:00pm or later. Who's watching the clock anyway?  Nobody around the campfires, as sparks blink out on the way up to the universal sky,  that's for sure. No wonder we like camping better. Even in the fog. A few hours and a handful of revelations  later, it's June 22nd, and with the headaches from the celebrations, we suspect  victims didn't  need to  can't see much anyway. Who needs to see anything on Saturday morning? Why would anyone want to see grass needing to be cut? Good thing. it was foggy. Genuine, stick-in-your-eye fog. Caution warranted.  Good old London variety, perhaps. No speeding recklessly across the lawn allowed.

The Fog

In the late morning the fog was stuck  to the grass;  so thick we could have carved it up and stirred it into that life-saving black morning coffee. Muffling all noise,  the eerie silence of fog surrounded, closed in, and made it totally unnecessary to be anywhere. Good thing again. Have you ever noticed fog does that? Brain fog does that too,  I forgot to post this on June 22nd.  I have all kinds of excuses. Busy.  Gardening. Weeding.  Broken lawnmower.  Broken tower. Belt slippage. Out of gas. The human variety of energy waning fast.  I had to fix stuff, being a dedicated self-sufficient DIY'er.  I got distracted.  Great excuses, and everything else was conveniently out of sight-- where the deer prance about in the ever-longer grass, hidden by that stick-in-your-eye fog. No matter. Here we are, smiling happily. Better late than never. Now it's smoking hot out there instead.  Much better.    Is that Incoming I hear? + Photo by author
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Writing Life: Spiritual Contentment in Gardening

  ©2008, 2013 by Raymond Alexander Kukkee

[caption id="attachment_1636" align="aligncenter" width="584"]Serenity in Gardening Early-morning Serenity in Gardening[/caption]

Spiritual Contentment in Gardening

Breathe deeply  in the freshness of the earth and carefully pull the weeds from the garden and listen to the early birds chirping at seven in the morning. The sun is coming up, and a gentle breeze is refreshing, but cool. Why be so early? The weeds in the vegetable patch can wait, can they not? Perhaps one should procrastinate and sleep late, but the serenity of gardening in the early morning is preferable.  I find spiritual contentment in gardening. Weeds aside, in my garden everything works perfectly. Perhaps the weeds, too, are perfect, for they do encourage me to think, to examine every tiny plant in detail and to decide which is which . I know most of them. I choose the weeds. The roots come out of the moist earth easily after a gentle rain. Chickweed, amaranth, crab grass, and even stringy wild buckwheat that grows like ivy decorates my vegetable rows. Canadian thistles, even as babies, are perfectly protected with thorns, reminding me to put my gloves back on. Dandelions in the middle of the wide carrot row are in flower, their brilliant yellow flowers waiting to be picked by a curious gardening child and offered to Grandma as a gift from heaven. I leave them. Somehow, earlier in the spring, the cultivator missed their deep, powerful roots too. How wonderful for Grandma. How perfect. Pear, plum, cherry and apple blossoms are out, it is so natural, so simple; the blossoms smell wonderful and sweet and in the perfection of God's plan, offer the cedar waxwings something to eat. The waxwings prefer the pink crab-apple blossoms for some reason. Maybe they taste better, but it matters not, there are thousands of blossoms to taste. Spiritual contentment allows choice. Dogs lay in the grass silently, wagging their tails and quietly watching me when they are not gazing at the squirrels high above them in the black ash trees. The squirrels in turn chatter at the birds; the robins hop from branch to branch, carrying twigs, grass, and long strands of white horse-hair for weaving and nest-building. The nests are almost finished.. I am almost finished the third row, and it is time to lean against the hoe, straighten the complaining muscles, and watch the bottom of the sun leave the horizon. I close my eyes and thank God for the blessings of life offered by our wonderful garden. I have found spiritual contentment in the earth itself, in the spiritual patience that comes naturally with growing things. All weeds are included, as we have decided weeds are special plants offering special and unique reasons to be with us. As I watch the sun rise, my mind is at peace, a strange and total serenity, but I can smell fresh morning coffee. Spiritual contentment is everywhere we seek it.  The next word, the next page, the next row,- the one with little beets and lettuce in it -and chickweed- can wait until tomorrow morning. And then there are always the potatoes. Is that incoming I hear? photo © by r.a.kukkee
Posted in Home & Hearth, Life, Reflections, The Human Mind, Writing Life, Yard & Garden | 6 Comments