Category Archives: Plants

A Westerner

Mabon and the Harvest Moon

Friday gratefuls: Shadow and Tom’s nylabone. Morning darkness. Hawai’i. Hickam. Honolulu. Diamond Head. Pearl Harbor. Big Island. Kona. Hilo. Volcanoes National Park. Mauna Loa. Kilauea. The Mauna Kea. Waimea. Kauai. Kalalau Trail. Hanalei Bay. Maui. Mama’s Fish House. Haleakala. Lahaina. The Weston. The Pacific. Surfing.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Hawai’i with Kate

Life Kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah:  Yesod.  Groundedness.

Tarot: paused

One brief shining: Funny how peace can soothe us, make us dance in the streets, as if that long long period of death and destruction existed only to show us how much peace means to us, how much stability and order provide the framework for a rich, calm life. Why can we not remember this before we start a war?

The West:  Woke up this morning to find my back door open! Geez. Must have been high winds over night and a not quite closed door. Glad no hyperphagic Bear discovered it. Or, a hungry Mountain Lion. Will make me more vigilant. Shadow Mountain at night. Not a place for open doors.

Been thinking about The West. About becoming a Coloradan. Which happened a few years ago. Not sure I could pinpoint a moment, more like a gradual realization that turning toward the Mountains meant turning towards home.

Becoming a Westerner is different. It has not only a specific and important geographical connotation, but also a mind set, a way of seeing what’s important from a spot that begins, at least for me, at the Front Range where the High Plains fall away and the Rockies begin.

In Indiana and later in Minnesota my attention turned toward the East Coast. To its prominence in U.S. history, its storied Universities, Boston, New York, Washington, D.C. The birthplace of our nation.

When I went to college, I chose Wabash, which styled itself as the Harvard of the Midwest. I wanted, for a long time, to live in New York City or D.C. The ocean I thought about was the Atlantic. Somehow destiny and greatness could only be found by going East.

No longer. While in Minnesota, as Mary, Mark, and eventually my son took up residence in Asia, my gaze began to turn West, toward the Pacific. Toward Asia.

As a result, when Kate and I moved to Colorado, I had already begun to redirect my gaze toward the West, toward that region of the country long associated with escape from the fuss budgets and robber baron capitalists, even from the often ossified social status of the Ivy Leagues. Go West, young man!

It has however only been of late that my inner world has fully shifted from those long years of focus on the East Coast as the region of primary importance for our country. Of course, Harvard and Yale. Still there. D.C. Still the center of U.S. political power. New York City. Still the financial center and the locus of the old world’s art and culture.

But. For me. They are all far away. A distant land of strivers, over achievers. Of people who put success before family, even before the nation. I no longer yearn to find my place in the world of their values.

Today my U.S. has Fourteeners. Mountain Streams. Huge amounts of unsettled land. Mule Deer and Elk. Mountain Lions. It is a U.S. defined more by its topography than its ability to shape the wide world. I wonder why I was ever drawn to the kinds of achievement typified by Ph.D.’s, fat bank accounts, ruling the world.

No, I’ve not replaced my suit with a Stetson, blue jeans, and a Western shirt. Although I might some day. Instead I watch Fog cover Black Mountain. I brake for the Elk Cows and their Calves crossing the highway. I live up high, not only distant from the East in miles, but also in altitude. In attitude.

I’ve abandoned the historic early U.S. for the ages long journey of Rocky Mountains, of their Hills and Valleys. For Wild Neighbors. Want to make policy? Consider them. Support and encourage a melding of humans and their natural environment rather than making the world safe for Big Ag, Big Pharma, Big Business, Big Egos.

Come out here to learn the human place in the world. Then write your dissertations, create IPO’s, pass laws.

Nathan and Lizzy

Mabon and the Harvest Moon

Monday gratefuls: The Ancient Brothers. The Night. A cool, very cool Night. 35 right now. Shadow curled, nose to tail. Tom. Roxann. Ode. Elizabeth. The Northshore. Lake Superior. Grand Marais. The Poplar River. Lutsen. Wolves. Moose. The Boundary Waters. My new Pendleton Blanket with the Aurora Borealis. Electric blankets.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Nathan and Lizzy

Life Kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah:  Yesod.  Groundedness. Foundation.

Tarot: Paused

One brief shining: Rain saturates the red cinder blocks making up my small patio, indoor light reflects off them as I open the door, outside for Shadow into the early morning darkness, eager, tail high, wet cold air seeps inside. I shut the door.

 

Hanging the Mezuzah on Artemis: Irv, Marilyn, Gabe, Tara, Me, Rabbi Jamie. Nathan took the photograph rendered here in the style of Thomas Benton.

Nathan and Lizzy: I love developing relationships. When they happen naturally. Yes, I’m an introvert, proud of my solitude and nourished by it. Yes. But I’m far from a misanthrope. The world has so many amazing people, kind and skilled and offering a perspective only they have. Can have.

I’ve gotten to know Nathan over the construction of Artemis, from rough idea to frame up to raised beds filled with soil and now plants. He’s a young guy, maybe early thirties. A man of business. A handyman. A trucking company. Colorado Coop and Garden.

He has plans. Emulate Tuff Shed. A Colorado firm that started out building sheds, then went to making kits that they ship all over the country. Next year he’s renting a shop where he can work regular hours, make kits for greenhouses and chicken coops, market them to the nation.

Lizzy, his partner, whom I met yesterday, runs a pet sitting business. She has larger ambitions, too. She’s a beautiful, high energy lady with a sweet soul. And, she loved Shadow. Ah, a way to care for Shadow if I get well enough to travel. Quirky dogs are her and a few of her employees special interest. Even better.

May they live long and prosper.

 

Artemis: I planted in late July. The average first frost at my elevation has come in early September, some years late August. It’s October 6th and still no frost. My Carrots, Beets, Spinach, and Kale are all cool weather crops, can withstand low temperatures, even light frosts. Especially the Beets and Carrots improve with the cooler weather, get sweeter.

The Tomatoes, my inside the greenhouse crop, do not like the cold. I’ve gotten a great first year crop with them, but if I could have had them in a month earlier, I would have had a huge crop. For a tiny greenhouse.

Nathan and Lizzy came by yesterday so Lizzy could see the almost finished Artemis and Nathan could install hooks for my cold frame tops. With the cold frame tops I can enclose the outdoor beds so they still receive Great Sol, yet remain above freezing. Extending my growing season on the outside of the greenhouse.

Once Nathan puts hard foam insulation panels-with handles-inside Artemis I should be able to grow Kale, Lettuce, Arugula over the winter. I should also be able to grow my own starter plants as winter begins to let go.

Good for my soul.

The Springtime of the Soul

Lughnasa and the Cheshbon Nefesh Moon

Sunday gratefuls: Road trips. Telluride. Ouray. Silverton. Durango. Shadow, rising in darkness. Morning darkness. Electricity. Artemis. Tomatoes nearing maturity. Very cool morning. Authoritarian playbooks. 2025. May you grow old in interesting times. TV. Books. Computers. Mini-splits. Fall come early. Aspen gold. CBE. Gabe and Gordonzeo. Ruth in her sophomore year.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Bubble gum and baling wire

Year Kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah:  Ometz lev. Inner strength to move forward. Courage.

Tarot: Ten of Arrows, Instruction

Generational Wisdom:
The card emphasizes the transfer of knowledge from elders to youth, ensuring that traditional skills and wisdom are not lost.

 

One brief shining: Shadow is in the house, goes straight to her Nylabone Lobster, begins to chew with what dog toy makers call aggressive chewing, the kind that shreds toys made for softer dogs, ones whose chewing gentles the toys, treats them like Velveteen Rabbits, not Shadow for she demands resistance, counts on toughness.

 
 

Seasons: A cool morning. Forty-three. The greenhouse heater either can’t keep up or turned itself off. I’ll find out later this morning. These late August days and all of September mark a gradual transition from growing season weather to the bleakness of the fallow season. Sometimes cold, even frosty, sometimes warm.

 

Soon the Aspens on Black Mountain will begin to turn from green to gold. Jackie who lives above 9,000 feet in Bailey said they’d started to turn a while back where she is. Kenosha Pass, too, said a friend of hers. The whispered reports we share. Knowing seasonal change for what it is. Life-changing.

 

When to put on the Snow tires? Will my cold frames be done before the first frost? When will the Garlic come? Do the mini-splits need cleaning? How’s my supply of firewood? How about that first Snow? When will it come? Homes become refuges from the cold. Shadow loved the Snow in February. How will she react when it comes again? With delight, I imagine.

 

Mountain roads. Become more challenging. Technical. Call on forty years of Minnesota winter driving experience. When these Blizzaks lose their tread, I’m buying Hankook quiet studded tires.

 

Holiseason lies only a couple of months away. Starting on Samhain and running through the Epiphany. My favorite time of the year. Family and friends. Festive days and long cold nights.

 

But. Not yet. First the corn-pickers and the combines. Reaping the harvest as the mad colors of a Midwestern Fall bloom, red Sugar Maple leaves floating down, down onto Lakes and Ponds. Boaters heading out to see the colors on Lake Minnetonka. College football underway. Can the NFL be far behind?

 

I love this transitional time. A joy of living in the temperate latitudes where we have four seasons, more or less. And this change from the heat of summer to the crisp weather of fall? The best. All poignancy and anticipation.

 

As Rudolf Steiner said, the springtime of the soul. That’s why cheshbon nefesh fits so well here. An outer change enhances, encourages an inner one.

Variables

Lughnasa and the Korea Moon

Sunday gratefuls: Morning darkness. Cool. Shadow and her toys. The flight to Incheon. 9:30 am, MT today. Korea. The Jangs. My son. The Giants. Baseball. A six year old and the World Series. 1987. Kirby Puckett. Randy Johnson. Bert Blyleven. Kent Hrbek. Fathers and sons. Memories, the scaffolding of identity.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: The Metrodome

Year Kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah: Hakarat Hatov. Recognizing the good.

Tarot: The Three of Arrows, Jealousy

One brief shining: Stubble darkened his golden brown face as he listened, focused, a commander, a lieutenant colonel, yes, but here with me, my son hearing my doctor, Sue Bradshaw, discuss my health.

 

The Jangs: The Giants lost. 4-2. Beaten by the Nationals. Jung Hoo Lee got one hit. Root, root, root for the home team. If they don’t win, it’s a shame. Not in this case. Seeing Lee play center field, bat. That was the ball game for the Korean cheering section.

Their plane leaves this continent today at 10:30 am Pacific time, arriving in Incheon on Monday, the 11th, at 3 pm. The international dateline.

My son returns to work on Tuesday after a “vacation” spent as chauffeur and main problem solver for this Rocky Mountain Korean holiday. He’s confident, decisive, steady, kind.

His work phone kept him busy, too. The oddest problem? A geomagnetic storm, space weather, that could harm the instruments used in his job. Talk about force majeure.

 

The Tarot: Not often do the cards perplex me, but this one, the Three of Arrows, jealousy? Wha…? I left envy and jealousy behind, at least I think I did, years ago. Each night I touch the mezuzah on my bedroom door and say, “I’m comfortable with who I am. I’m comfortable with what I have.” I mean it, too. And feel it in my lev. So, jealousy?

Perhaps it comes to remind me of those days when I read many authors and wanted to write like them? Marion Zimmer Bradley. Herman Hesse. Ovid. Many others. I found my own voice.

Or. Perhaps it comes to remind me of the spiritual journey I’ve taken since those days of ambition. Toward acceptance of the Great Wheel as a model of life. Toward the Jewish insistence on constant questioning. Toward Yamantaka’s wisdom on death. Toward knowledge, intimate knowledge, of the One.

Or, perhaps it’s a random card with no particular resonance at all.

 

Artemis: Kale, Spinach, Beets, Tomatoes thrive. Arugula, Lettuce, Chard not so much. The east facing bed challenges me to learn how to plant it, water it. What unique gift does it have that I can’t quite see right now?

While I wait on the other vegetables to mature, I plan to try different things, see what might turn it from fallow to abundance. First, I plan to replant the Arugula, Lettuce, and Chard. Perhaps today. Then I plan to supplement the drip irrigation with my pretty green watering can. It has a flat copper spout with holes and produces a gentle Rain.

My goal is not so much a harvest at this point, but experimenting with variables to see what makes this bed a comfortable home for Seeds.

 

Renewing my lease

Lughnasa and the Korea Moon

Shabbat gratefuls: United flight 806. An hour out of San Francisco. United flight 1702 to Denver. Cool night. Rain. The Monsoons. Shadow out at 3 am. Now inside and hungry. Family. Friends. Alan and his Hawaiian shirt. The Bread Lounge. Artemis and her beds. Shadow Mountain high.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: My son and Seoah here tonight.

Year Kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah: Ahavah. Love.

Tarot:  The Pole Star. #17*  What do the cards have to say to me today?

One brief shining: According to Flight Tracker United 806 has crossed the wide Pacific to within 46 minutes of San Francisco and the continental U.S., bearing within itself loved ones from far away Korea, all seated near each other some old, some young, all on an adventure of a lifetime for the Jang family of Okgwa.

 

Artemis: Had to rig a twine support for another fast growing Tomato Stalk. Will have to do more once Fruiting starts, heavy. I’m ready. I have Tomato metal and plastic supports, more twine.

Nathan comes today to finish work on Artemis. He’ll be tidying up electrical cords, adding cold frames, lapping the Cedar shakes. If he thinks it will work, he may also drill holes in the hail protection overlap from the greenhouse roof. My idea. Let some rain through while still blocking hail.

Together we’ll have to come up with some solution for irrigation on the east facing raised bed. All in the process of learning how to make Artemis function best. This is a shake-down season. Though. I’d say the greenhouse has already proved its mettle. Go Tomatoes!

 

Exercise: Once again up to 150 minutes of moderate exercise. Feels so good. Improves my mood and, as a new study shows, also fights cancer.

A combination of cardio on the treadmill, p.t. exercises aimed at my aching back and legs, plus upper body workouts designed with the help of Chatgpt.

Moving my treadmill, mats, weight bench, weights and kettle bells down to Kate’s old sewing room has helped. In fact, I got in 30 minutes of cardio yesterday in 10 minute increments. I set my timer for an hour. When it goes off, I get up and go to the treadmill, walk for 10 minutes. Easy peasy.

 

Tarot: The Pole Star, one of the major arcana marking the wanderer’s journey through the Wildwood. Offering guidance toward the end of the pilgrimage.

Could be, probably will be, the start of a new phase of my life. Shadow and I have made great strides. Artemis has already got my full gardener’s attention. I know what’s next for my back and leg pain. These all represent a strong move into a more co-creative life.

With my son, Seoah, and her family here for a week starting tonight I can see the outlines of a new relationship to the Jangs. Closer than before.

I also plan to talk to my son and Seoah about family matters, discuss what might happen if I go into a decline (not planning on it, but then do we ever?), remind them of the estate, the living wills, the medical power of attorney.

 

 

*Spiritual Guidance:
It signifies a connection to universal wisdom and the power of your intuition. The card encourages you to listen to your inner voice and trust the guidance it offers. 

  • Healing and Integration:
    This card represents a period of healing and integration, where you can…embrace wholeness. It’s a time to let your guard down and allow yourself to be nurtured by the holistic energy of the universe. 

  • New Beginnings:
    The Pole Star can also indicate the start of a new phase in your life, a time to step forward with renewed optimism and a sense of purpose.  Gemini

 

 

 

 

Hallelujah. And, amen.

Lughnasa and the Korea Moon

Friday gratefuls: At 8:30 pm tonight, MT, the visit of the Jangs leaves Incheon. 11:30 am tomorrow, KT. Alan. Bread Lounge. Shadow. Artemis. Morning Darkness. Lughnasa. Christmas in July, Melbourne. Mary settling in. Mark in Al Kharj. Family, far far away. Loved. The Sprouts, Seeds making good on their implicit promise.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: My son and Seoah here tomorrow night.

Year Kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah: Yirah. Awe.

Tarot: The Seer, #2 in the major arcana. What do the cards have to say?

One brief shining: Forgot the excitement of watching Plants emerge from Seeds, checking each day to see the progress they’re making, often a Seed Husk hangs on a bit, discarded after protecting the vitality of the green Emergent, like a body left behind after death.

 

Artemis: I suppose you could call it a hobby. Growing things. But, it doesn’t feel that way to me. Each day is a small Christmas with yellow Tomato Blossoms fattening out into green bulbous beginnings of Fruit. With Sprouts reaching further above the Soil, their new chartreuse already shading toward a darker hue. Their Leaves, at first only two, then a stalk, then more Leaves. Artemis pregnant with so many children.

I love these early days of Plant growth, coming out of hard shelled Seed with vigor, piercing the dark, reaching toward the nutrition of Great Sol, light eaters hungry for their first meal.

The miracle of photosynthesis. Eat Great Sol’s rays, produce carbohydrates, give off O2. Grow more. Grow more. Until a red Tomato lies in hand. Or, a Leaf of Chard, of Spinach, a blood red Beet.

If there’s a category above miracle, and there must be, it would include this oh so ordinary magic that most ignore. Celebration of life its very self. We can train our eye to see it. Our hands to pick it. Our nose to smell it. Our tongue to taste it.

The Midwest, the Central Valley. Vast lands devoted to farming. Yet most of the farming now done by mechanization, fertilization, irrigation. No celebration of the miracle until it produces the other green, profit. Measuring the worth of photosynthesis against its value to the bottom line may be the ur-evil afoot in the World. That metric drains Aquifers, strips away Top Soil, erodes whole Landscapes.

Maybe I am. Maybe. A broken record on this point. Only because my joy in growing things is so great, my closeness to the Plant Kingdom one of delight, not monetized as the tech bros like to say.

Yes. Growing things, eating from the bounty of Mother Earth’s vast collection of foodstuffs, can harmonize with the needs of Soils, of available Water, of sustainable harvesting. It can be the basis of human life, a human way of being that lives long and prospers. But it sure isn’t right now.

Those Beets pushing down roots that will develop into a tasty salad fixing, the Spinach ready to spread its wide Leaves, the peppery Arugula tentative in its early growth testify. They preach in the oldest language of all, the language of life sustained by life, of life sustained by the heat of Great Sol, the much recycled Water, the nutrients in the Soil. Hallelujah. And, amen.

 

Energize

Summer and the Korea Moon

Tuesday gratefuls: Hernia ultrasound. Scrotal ultrasound. Prolia shot. Colorado Pain tomorrow. All Drs., all the time. Western medicine. Ruby. Her air conditioning. 101 degrees in Lakewood yesterday. Drip irrigation. Artemis’ heater and exhaust fan. Those Tomato Plants. Healthy. Some Chard sprouting. Morning darkness. The Great Bear. Stars in the morning Sky.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: The deaf ultrasound tech

Year Kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah: Yirah. Awe.

Tarot: The Great Bear, #20.  How can I energize my creativity?

One brief shining: On a gurney, again, Deanna holding the ultrasound wand, giving me directions like bear down, cough in her deaf inflected voice, asking me a question like when did you have your hernia repair then turning to see my lips move, when watching the ultrasound image, she leaned back in an attitude of stiff concentration.

 

Imaging: MRIs. P.E.T. Scan. X-ray. Now ultrasound. A tour of the look inside crew. Completed in three months. Like winning all the majors on the golf circuit. Sort of.

Charlie Petersen, my old Internist who moved to Steamboat many years ago, often said, “Each of us is a black box.” Imaging techniques try to peer inside the black box, take away some of the mystery. But they’re only as good as the interpreter. AI has proven to be very skilled at this particular task. Radiologists plus AI yield better understanding than we had before.

Glad we have these technologies, not so glad I have to make use of so many of them, so often.

 

Tarot: The Great Bear, #20 of the major arcana, out of 21. The major arcana represent the fool’s journey, or, in the Wildwood Tarot’s instance, the wanderer’s. The Great Bear appears as the next to last step on the journey before #21, the World Tree.

The card shows a passage tomb between two great Oaks, a Polar Bear guarding the entrance. Inside the tomb the wanderer lies, experiencing death as a passage way from one life to another, a transformation, a rebirth.

The Great Bear’s position on the Great Wheel of the Year corresponds to the Winter Solstice. That annual opportunity to die to one’s old self on the longest night and be reborn in a world illuminated by the burning of the Yule log.

As I thought about my question, how can I energize my creativity, I realized the Great Bear called me to see. See that I laid in the tomb for much of this year, changing again into a Dog companion with Shadow, into a gardener with Artemis, connecting again with Mother Earth in a co-creative way, linking my life again to a Dog’s.

They have, each in their own way, opened my lev, my heart-mind. Through them I see myself as an intimate with the world of growing, changing lives. Both energizing my creativity and mutual expressions of it. The long struggle with Shadow, learning her ways and helping her adapt to mine. Artemis teaching me about raised beds, about drip irrigation, about a greenhouse where I can regulate the temperature, make the Tomato Plants happy.

The left Reverend Doctor Israel Herme Harari.

 

 

Not Even Past

Summer and the Korea Moon

Friday gratefuls: Ruth and Gabe. Nathan. Tarot. Morning Darkness. Cool morning. Shadow the mover of toys and socks. The sleeper. Alan and Joanne. Dandelion. RTD. Japanese lanterns. Red tie guy. His allies and facilitators. The rest of us. The most. Our long, slow slide into a third-rate country.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Japanese Lanterns for Artemis

Year Kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah: Ahavah. Love.

Tarot: The eight of Vessels-rebirth. How can I enhance my joy in the Tarot.

One brief shining: Ruth drives her pale green Subaru up the hill to Conifer, to Shadow Mountain Black Mountain Drive and she brings Gabe, Jon, Kate, Merton, Rebecca, BJ, Sarah, Annie with her, the living and the dead who occupy our memories and still shape our lives. Family.

 

Family: Its many branches planted here and in the here after. Jon and Kate. Tanya. Leisa. Rebecca and Merton. Of recent and sometimes blessed memory.

Not gone. Not at all. Haunting or supporting. Often both in the same moment. A remembered moment of hearts spread out on a restaurant table. A father watching movies with his son. A hostile mother demeaning her children. A hand held gently. A smile and a hug just when needed. Those quiet, small moments when love flashed between the two. Or among the three.

Mothers and fathers. Daughters and sons. Brothers and sisters. Grandfathers and grandmothers. Cousins. Kin.

Mark works in the desert of the Arabian Peninsula. Mary starting a new expat life as a permanent resident of Australia. Melbourne. Guru in K.L. My son in Osan along with Seoah and Murdoch.

Mom and dad. Long dead now. Yet not absent. No. Following Faulkner: “The past is not ever dead; it’s not even past.”

The stories. Of Charlie Keaton. Of Mabel. Of Aunt Mary and Aunt Mame. Aunt Nell. Uncle Riley. Aunt Virginia. All ghosts now, all hidden from earthly view yet still alive, still shaping us in ways we sometimes know and in ways we often do not.

How will we dance in the minds of our family after our deaths? Will it be a slow, graceful gavotte. A passion fueled tango. An elegant waltz. Perhaps a rock and roll moment, abandon and energy. Something we cannot predict, nor ever know.

 

Artemis: Nathan brought by two Japanese lanterns yesterday. Adding to the koi already on the door and his wooden accessories. Artemis has a distinct Asian inflection, appropriate for this guy whose family long ago fled west across the Pacific to Korea, Malaysia, Thailand, Singapore, Australia.

Artemis is, in that way, a family shrine as well as a temple to my mixed pagan and Jewish spirituality. Her Tomatoes have many spiky yellow blooms, her Squash Plants have begun to throw vines over the raised beds, while the seeds of her fall salad garden right now take in moisture and heat, have located Great Sol’s path above them and will soon emerge above ground.

Still to plant: Herbs, flowers. And, later, in October, garlic.

Bonus Post: A Fall Garden

Summer and the Greenhouse Moon II

Planted my late summer garden this a.m. Nathan has cold frames under construction so I can extend the growing season for the outdoor raised beds well into September.

Adding this bonus post because it felt so good to have my hands in the Soil. Judging depths and distances for optimal Seed maturation and thinning. Watering. Writing small signs for each Vegetable.

Shadow wandered around below the raised beds wondering what had so much of Dad’s attention.

The fall garden has Swiss Chard Rainbow, Spinach Bloomsdale, and Beets Chioggia in one bed and Arugula, Lettuce Lolla Rossa, and Chard Silverbeet in the other.

A bit of organic fertilizer went in over the weekend and has gotten watered in. After I planted the seeds, I’ve gone back over them with a watering can. This gives them moisture and helps prevent air pockets which can cause rot while a young plant grows.

This small bit of gardening, done at chest level, wore me out. Had to do it in shifts. Wow. Illustrated the wisdom of the raised high raised beds.

The only thing I have left to do today involves twine for tomato plant support. When I get rested again, I’ll finish that.

Intuitive Connection to the One

Summer and the Greenhouse Moon II

Friday gratefuls: Joanne. Alan. Gabe. Ruth. Marilyn and Irv. New trowel and cultivator. Planting the fall garden. Cold frame. Nathan. Mandela Day. Monsoons. Ginny. Janice. The Wildwood Deck. Shadow coming in. Halle, leaving on Aug. 8th. The Jang’s. Arriving Aug. 2nd. P.T. Ultrasound.

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Life, well lived.

Year Kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah: Patience. Savlanut

Tarot:  The Page of Arrows, Wren.

 

One brief shining: In the mail, a new trowel and cultivator, Tomato cages, ready for the planting of a fall garden that will make use of the cold frames Nathan has devised for Artemis’ outside raised bed and for the Tomato plants in the greenhouse that have bloomed and gotten so big.

 

Artemis: Blooms! It’s one thing to grow Tomato Plants, another to grow Tomatoes. A balance struck between Plant and Fruit. So far it looks like a good balance. The Plants need support, growing tall. Got some modular Tomato cages in the mail yesterday.

Working on the fall garden today and tomorrow. Nathan has designed cold frames for the two raised beds which should be enough to get this mid-summer planting past the first frosts in September.

All an experiment this year. Next year in the Spring I’ll start my own plants in the greenhouse well before the last frosts in late May. I would say this year and next will be about learning how best to utilize Artemis. She and the seasons will teach me.

 

Dog journal: A late evening feeding. Shadow has begun to come in for the night. I think, I hope, this will last. She associates coming in around 6 with her evening meals. I close the door and she’s inside until morning. Morning comes around 4-5 a.m.

Slowly, slowly.

 

Organ recital: Oh, hell. I get so tired of this. No ultrasound scheduled yet. Halle at P.T. gave me pointers on how to avoid aggravating a possible hernia.

Next week Wednesday I go to Colorado Pain for a consultation and possible scheduling of the SPRINT device. The steroid injection seems to have had no effect on my hip.

Nothing new with the cancer. Which is good news.

 

Tarot: The Page of Arrows-Wren*. Today’s question: How can I celebrate Mother Earth here on Shadow Mountain? The Druid’s considered the Wren a sacred bird, know for its wisdom and cunning.

In Kabbalah all of the court cards: Ace, King, Queen, Knight, and Page relate to Chochma, the divine attribute of wisdom on the Tree of Life.

The suit of Arrows in the Wildwood deck corresponds to the Spirit realm, to the element of Fire, and to the level of soul that transcends thought and represents a direct intuitive connection to the One.

I read all of this to mean that Artemis, the Lodgepoles, the Aspens, the Swallowtails, the Pentstemons, Grasses, Bear Paw, Ants, Squirrels, Chipmunks, Rabbits, Canadian and Blue Jays, Magpies, Robins, Mule Deer and Elk, Moose, Mountain Lions, Foxes, and Bears speak to my intuition, to my direct connection to the One through careful observation and care for them all.

I’ll close today with this Celtic lore:

Bards told of a contest to see which Bird could fly the highest. Many Birds competed, but the Eagle felt confident. He did not notice the Wren that rode up on his back, then flew above Eagle’s highest reach to win.

Cunning, yes. Fair? Not really. Still the Wren, one of the tiniest Birds in all of Great Britain defeated much more capable competitors.

 

*Shifting Energy:

The Page of Arrows, or Wren, marks a transition from the active, sometimes impulsive energy of the Arrows (akin to Wands in traditional tarot) to a more grounded, observant, and introspective phase.

    • Wisdom and Cunning:
      The Wren is a symbol of wisdom, cunning, and a deep understanding of the natural world. It suggests that you can achieve your goals through a combination of intelligence, observation, and strategic thinking. 
      Youthful Curiosity:
      The card encourages you to embrace your inner child’s curiosity and approach new situations with an open mind and a willingness to learn. 

Earthly Page Energy:

The Wren is often depicted as a small bird that stays close to the ground, symbolizing the earthy Page energy of the Wildwood Tarot. This suggests that you should ground your ambitions and focus on practical application of your skills. 
Gemini