Fate is a wild dog in many ways, she is very sweet and affectionate, but out in the woods or the meadow, we see another side of her, she is a wild thing, I haven no doubt she could survive out in the woods if the coyotes didn’t get her. She finds water, digs through the ice, hunts for frogs and chipmunks, berries and nuts. Out on our walks, I sometimes see her out in the woods, sniffing and investigating, soaking up the stories of the forest with her eyes and ears and nose. She hears and sees and smells so much more than I do, I wish she could tell me her stories.
Last night, a wind and rain storm blew through the farm and when we let the chickens out of their roost today, we found a nest, blown out of the big maple tree and lying on top of a lilac bush. It was quite a work of art, a master fiber work, it even had hairs from Chloe and the donkeys woven into it. No signs of being occupied, I think the babies have already gone. I think this nest will have a permanent home in Maria’s studio, it was an enchantingly beautiful thing to see.
Maria and I are having a kind of summer blast with gardening. I have to confess, I am not a natural gardener, I am a natural digger and waterer. For Maria, gardening is a way of connecting to the earth, as all pagan witches seek to do. For me, it is something else really, I deeply love to see our old farmhouse ringed with green things and flowers, it brings all of us – house and people – to life. And I do love caring for the plants and flowers, even if I never know their names.
Last week, we were at a nursery and Maria yelled with delight, she saw a fig bush. She loves figs, and so we bought it. We were told not to plan the fig plant, the winters here can be too cold for it. We leave it outside for the Summer and Fall – I think it likes sun and and shade – and bring it into the basement for the winter (with the Dahlia bulbs).
In a month or so, we should have our own figs. I moved it off of the back porch – too much sun – and out under a lilac bush. Sun in the morning, shade in the afternoon. It seems happy there. I’m even starting to talk like a gardener.
I love keeping things healthy and caring for them, it touches and helps heal some broken part of me. In my other life, gardeners and landscape people were people I always hired. I wouldn’t do that now. I’m excited to have a fig bush. Or plant.
