Pruning. Good-Bye to the MIA

Beltane                                                                             Planting Moon

Pruning allows a shrub or tree to put its energy into productive growth whether it is a stronger trunk or better fruit.  It’s important to prune when a plant gets overgrown or has grown in ways that cut off the flow of air through the branches.  It’s also important to keep a tree, especially fruit trees, at productive sizes, ones where the tree puts its energy into apples, cherries, plums and where the fruit can be harvested easily.

This common garden activity, however, often confronts the gardener with a task for which they feel ill prepared and perhaps a bit nervous.  If I prune too much, will I kill the plant?  You can.  What do I take off?  Why?  It’s not unusual for home gardeners to skip this chore because it feels laden with risk while doing nothing seems to avoid harm.

The third phase requires pruning.  Leaving a job or a career is an act of pruning.  A move to a smaller home is an act of pruning.  Deciding which volunteer activities promote life and which encumber can proceed an act of pruning.

Last year I set aside my political work with the Sierra Club.  Today I have set aside my work at the Minneapolis Institute of Arts.  This is pruning, too, and the kind of pruning necessary at this point for me.

The branches that I want to grow strong are my writing and my translation of Ovid.  They both require regular, sustained hours on a week by week basis.  Both the Sierra Club and the MIA took me away from that concentration.

These were not decisions I made likely, nor are they decisions I made without a sense of loss. In the case of the Sierra Club I gave up my sense of political agency, long a hallmark of my life.  With the MIA I’m giving up a chance to be with kids and adults on tours and the regular stimulation of art in my life.  These are not trivial for me.

Yet.  In this last phase of life I want to focus my efforts in ways that give me a chance to succeed, instead of scattering them in the interest of multiple passions.

 

Bee Diary: May 2013

Beltane                                                                      Planting Moon

On a cold, snowy day not long ago I hived a 2 pound package of Italian hygienics.  My back hurt, I was clumsy.  The queen squeezed out of her cage, around the marshmallow, requiring me to shut the hive box up more quickly than I would have liked.  A few bees remained in the package and I couldn’t get them into the hive.

The cork went into the hole, the cover back on the hive box and I went back inside convinced I had failed in the hiving.  This last three weeks or so has not been a happy time for me with the severe back pain, Kona’s medical issues and Kate’s absence during that time, so I was predisposed to doubt myself.

Yet.  Today I went out, on a sunny day, bright with the hope peculiar to spring, clothed in my bee suit, smoker and hive tool to hand, and lifted the cover.  Checking for brood.  Brood means the colony is queenright, the queen accepted by the colony and laying eggs.  Brood means honey once the blossoms begin to multiply and the nectar flow becomes substantial.

And there they were.  Hexagonal cells capped with the distinctive brown covering the bees use to incubate their future allies in the maintenance of the colony.  The buzzing of the hive when I lifted the lid made me sure I would find brood.  This was a living thing, vital and strong.  The noise alone made that clear.  Still, I had to find the brood cells and I did.

I’m glad, too.  There were days over the last couple of weeks when I hoped that the queen had flown and the whole mess of beekeeping would recede into the past.  Now though with the weather and my mood lifting I wanted the brood to be there, to continue this ancient practice.  And it was and I will.