Shahrzad's Garden

Angel Bell

Today it’s been a year since we lost our beloved Bell. He has the sweetest spirit and most loving heart and was an angel even before he earned his wings (as my friends at Tripawds say). I’m writing this sitting on a bench between the forsythia he so loved (especially sneaking away to hide under its branches and taking in the sights, sounds, and scents of the garden) and his resting place. A slight breeze makes the surface of the pond shimmer and the forsythia leaves dance. I like to think Bell’s spirit is enjoying it – perhaps catching a whiff of some enticing scent and observing the birds and butterflies with keen interest – ears perked, eyes wide, and whiskers twitching back and forth.

Last year, when a dear friend learned of Bell’s passing, she sent a card that said “The loss is immeasurable…So is the love.” That beautiful sentiment summed up my feelings perfectly and penetrated through the pain of such a devastating loss to reach my heart.

Many dear family and friends wrapped me in their support, compassion, and empathy. I am deeply grateful to, and touched by each of them. One of the greatest gifts we can give someone who has suffered a loss is to simply be present with them in their grief. It’s a profound gift and often what is needed most. To the many of you who gave me exactly that, thank you.

I wanted to make this post all about the years sweet Bell was physically with us (he will always be with us in heart and spirit), sharing memories and the many ways he enriched our lives, but can’t really seem to do that today. So, instead, I’ll just share how fortunate I’ve been to have shared a life, home and heart with the gentlest of angels.

I love and miss you, my sweetest heart, and trust that my grandfather and other loved ones who have gone before you are taking good care of you on the other side of the Rainbow Bridge.

Bell's resting place, facing his forsythia bush and the pond.

 

Making sweet memories under the sour cherry tree

Photo Credit: Carly & Art (Flickr)

 

If you haven’t had the experience of picking your own fruits or vegetables, I highly recommend it. There is something about going to a farm or garden to pick food grown and nurtured with care, that gives it a lovely flavor. The only thing better is if the food you gather carries with it the taste of your childhood.

I just visited Baugher’s Farm with my parents for our annual sour cherry picking trip. It was great to connect with those who have grown this special fruit, protected it, and now invite the rest of us in to be a part of the farm-to-table journey. We make a day of it, enjoying the trip over, taking in all the sights, scents and sounds of the farm, and gently picking just the right sour cherries to fill our buckets (already anticipating the sour cherry jam and the rice dish – Albaloo Polo – we’ll make when we get home). We end the outing by tasting their delicious homemade ice cream and stopping for lunch before heading back. 

One of the things I enjoy the most about this day is sharing the experience with my parents. As we go about gathering our sour cherries for the year, we see many families who come from all around the region, and many cultures. The families often have several generations present, children helping their grandparents navigate the uneven ground, mom and dad checking to make sure their children and parents are not too tired or hot, and everyone sharing stories, memories, and laughter. 

I imagine each family returning home at the end of the day, happy and tired and grateful to have had this time together. The taste of the sour cherries will bring back memories of growing up, prompt parents and grandparents to share stories of their own life (each family’s stories will be unique to them and have common threads others sharing the same culture would find instantly familiar). The sour cherries will sparkle like jewels in recipes infused with the love, history, and story of their family and heritage.

I’m already looking forward to next year.      

There's a hawk in my garden!

I want my garden to be a safe place for the birds and squirrels that visit it. Over the last year or so, I've seen a hawk fly in several times. It's not visiting to get a drink of water, or eat bird seed, of course. 

It's a beautiful bird, but since it insists on frightening and chasing my little sparrows and other feathered guests (and will do more than just scare them, if it can),I can't welcome it to my garden. I'm not exactly sure how one gets a hawk to understand there's "no hunting allowed" here, but I'll have to find out (loud noise, perhaps?)! Here's a picture of it from October; the hawk is sitting on the green bird feeder... Any thoughts on the kind of hawk it is and how to kindly discourage it from hanging out?      

 
 
  

Fireflies light our summer nights

Fireflies (lightning bugs) have such a sweet way of lighting summer evenings like delicate lanterns. I look forward to their visit every year, and the magic of their glow appearing suddenly somewhere in the backyard.  

Here are a couple of picture showing what they look like when they're not flying.  Now if you see them hanging out on (or under) your plants during the day, you'll know they're our magical fireflies, and not a garden pest...and can take care that they're not disturbed or harmed. 

Enjoy the light show!  They'll soon leave us for another year...

 

Garden Jewel

I'm always delighted to see these lovely visitors grace my garden!  I took this picture a few days ago (along with several other photos of my delicate guest) and love the way his (her?) wings and body show up here.  He's resting on my water iris and enjoying the sun.  Dragonflies are one of my favorite nature friends and remind me of summers spent growing up by the sea.  They always make me smile.  I hope this picture brings a smile to your face, too.

 
   
 
 

Autumn's Glory

I love fall!  There are so many wonderful gifts nature  shares with us during this season: vibrantly colored leaves kissing the sky and gracefully covering the ground, the crisp autumn air, scent of wood fire making us feel all cozy, gardens relaxing into the soft rays of sun and cool, gentle fall air, and the fun of watching cute squirrels look for a good hiding space to store their nuts. 

This is also a natural time of year to start (or start again) working on plans and dreams.  I think it's partly due to the fact that school begins in the fall and for a big part of our lives  we've experienced this as a time to "start."  For me, this season's projects include preparing my garden for winter; gathering friends around the table for leisurely lunches and afternoon teas; savoring the beauty, flavors, and scents of autumn; and creating and sharing resources for clients in career search or transition.  What are the plans autumn is inspiring you to begin working on?