Saturday, August 27, 2011
Cool Blues, Waiting for the Storm
So we wait. We wait for her torrential rains. We wait for her strong winds. We wait for the predicted flooding. We wait for potential downed power lines and the loss of water supply.
The garden seems resigned this morning, though we know that is but an anthropomorphic attribution. More aptly, I am resigned this morning to the potential damage.
Just this week, here in the mid-Atlantic region we experienced an earthquake (a mere tremor those folks on the West Coast would call it), and now we face a hurricane (a very slow moving one at that). My return from 4 weeks in Europe was welcomed with an outbreak of Sclerota Rolfsii, which has nearly claimed the life of one of two Lemon Drop Hostas, and is proving too formidable for a few Sum and Substance Hostas.
We just simply haven't mastered nature, try as we might.
Here I sit, staring out onto the garden, prematurely wondering how to redesign and replant it if the neighbor's very diseased maple tree topples, or if Irene claims my own tree, both scenarios of which would render my shade garden a full sun garden. Perhaps it is a mental act of desperation, or perhaps it exemplifies the fear of being confronted with the vast nothingness of time (and potentially empty space for that matter). Perhaps.
Or perhaps it is simply a manifestation of the knowledge that time does not stop, that time continues. Perhaps it is a recognition of the movement of time itself: the primordial law of succession.
Somehow, the predominance of blues and purples in the garden at the moment, ringed with the white lemon-scented flowers of Sum and Substance hostas, just seems to make the thought of loss and destruction all the more bearable, for the law of succession tells me that something will always come after...