Green Tongue

For a whole week I fretted.  Every time I sat at my terrace and happened to look up, I apologized.  Was it necessary? Could it not wait—another week, a month, a year? The questions of the guilty.

But in the end, with the rain clouds darkening the blue summer skies, it had to be done.  There was no telling the extent of the damage that could be caused in the event of a strong typhoon.

My dear narra tree had to be trimmed of its branches last Saturday.  

With the rainy season almost upon us, trimming my narra and the other trees needed once more to be done. 

Shade giving branches once more came falling down one by one.  

They were the same branches supporting so much leaves and offered so much comfort during sweltering summer days.

I held my breath as my gardener, V, climbed higher and higher to get at the top branches. My heart was heavy with regret with every branch that broke off with the final blow of V’s sharp bolo.   A scent of crashed oregano, grass and wood filled the air.   I stood and watched to the mournful end.

“In no time, new branches will come back”, my hubby said aloud by way of consoling me.  He too was watching near by.

With resignation, I nodded as  I turned around to go back into the house.

---xoxoxox---

I used to laugh when I heard stories of how people talk to their plants.  I used to wonder what the fuss was all about when my friends went into rapture recalling the bloom of this orchid or the size of that fruit.  It’s just a plant, I rationalized.

All that has changed having taken on a more “hands-on” approach to the care of my tiny garden over the years.  It’s one thing to form an attachment to an inanimate object- a piece of jewelry or a painting.  But I find there’s more to being attached to one that is living. (click HERE , HERE and HERE for past post on my garden escapades)

There is so much joy to be had when the seed planted has broken ground and raised it’s tiny leaves to the sun.  It’s amazing how flowers know the right time to bloom. 

And there is no words to describe the fulfillment of picking some calamansi or kamias to add to a dish.  Or seeing the tree I planted 15 years ago become a 40 ft tree waving it’s branches in the wind.  It’s a miracle happening before my very eyes.

You can count me now as one of those who talks to her plants. And as I walk among them, sometimes I feel them brush against my leg or arm as if to say “we hear you”.

---xoxoxox---

It’s never too late to form a relationship of the green variety.  I share with you some tips:

It’s good to have on hand some garden implements.  Spoons or a kitchen knife might be fine in a pinch but not for the long haul.

If your garden is tiny like mine, there is no one stopping you from using large pots or small pots.

Knowledge is powerful. So read up on plants that interest you. Saves time and disappointments.

Pretty soon, you'll be having meaningful conversations.... with your plants.

June Meadow 

I wish this lovely afternoon

Didn't have to end so soon;

I like to while away the hours

Among the trees and grass and flowers.

And in this field I love to lie

And touch the earth and feel the sky.