As I sit and wait for the dermatologist to cut yet another basal cell carcinoma from my face (sunscreen, folks–it’s a must!) I’m thinking about how the summer sped by at warp speed. In contrast with last year’s scorching heat wave, this August has been remarkedly mild with cool mornings and highs of 75 in the afternoon. By the end of summer my garden is normally looking pretty ratty, but this time it seems to have sprung to life like a post-menopausal Renaissance. Everything is exploding with color and vibrancy! I’m hoping this weather pattern is an indication that La Niña is going to come through for Southern California after El Niño left us high and dry. Enough of this damn drought. Enjoy the flowers!
It’s been a rough week for our country. There’s been so much violence and hate lately. Yet after spending time in the garden this afternoon, I feel a great sense of hope as I focus on the diverse beauty around me.
While I’ve been horrified at what occurred in Orlando, I’m in awe of the outpouring of love from all over the world. It’s evident that love is so much more powerful than hate.
We are a remarkable nation of color and we are all equally vibrant!
It’s going to be okay. Love always wins, no matter what.
God Bless America.
I’m wishing for dark cloud and rainstorms, but in the meantime, I’m enjoying the little taste of spring right outside my front door. Thought you might, too.
The garden has yet to realize we’re in a severe drought. We’ve completely stopped watering the lawn and it has since turned it into a crunchy plot of brown turf that makes me cringe every time I drive up to the house. I absolutely refuse to let my flowers die though, which means it’s bucket time around our house. We now have buckets in each shower to catch all the cold water that would normally go down the drain until the water temperature is hot enough.
For the longest time I couldn’t figure out why my back was hurting so much until I figured out it’s because I’m lugging buckets of water out to the yard every day. Curse you, drought!
For those of you around the country who are experiencing hurricanes, tornadoes, thunderstorms, hail the size of baseballs and massive flooding, I apologize for complaining about a little dead grass. I humbly request that you please send some of your surplus rain out to Santa Barbara!
Every day when I walk out the front door I’m greeted by a glorious blanket of color that wraps me up in joy even when my heart is heavy. There’s been so much sadness in our community since the shootings that took place in Isla Vista on May 23. There is still so much healing that needs to take place.
Despite this tragedy, I still believe that beauty always finds its way into our lives and somehow continues to blossom even when the conditions are unfavorable.
I choose to believe in the goodness of all people. I pray for change. I watch for growth. And I hope for love.
And it’s all right there in the garden to remind me every single day.
Most of you know that I’m writing a novel. So far, I’ve written thirteen chapters and I’ve got to say that most of the time this process is either sublime or excruciating. Today was the latter. I must have gone to the computer as least five times throughout the day and no matter how hard I tried, I could not get myself to start a new chapter.
So I’ve decided to dive down deep into avoidance and give it up, just for today. Tomorrow I’ll sit down again and see if my muse wants to make herself available once again.
In the meantime, here’s what I saw today in the garden.
I’ve got to give credit to my lovely mother, Eleanor Winters, as some of the photographs posted here are of her garden. I’d say the proof of her exceptionally green thumb is evident, wouldn’t you?
Thanks, Mom for passing your love of gardening on to me.