Back to Nature (Published on - March 2, 2005)
Grow a new garden of moments and memories
Photo by Rick Tremmel
Long-tailed skippers gather nectar upon the lantana.
The white curtains lift with the breeze dancing in afternoon shafts of sunlight. The air feels and smells different. There’s something unexplainable but for certain noticeably different.

A cardinal lays claim to the bird feeder, a scarlet sentinel, noble and proud. A gang of robins stir up the soil between the roots of last year’s grass, turning over each tiny stone in search of bite size robin snacks. At the edges of the lake pompous male ducks strut in front of their females making self-important grunts while swishing their newly feathered tails.

There was a fog last night and a warm misty haze this morning. A full moon posed over the lake, as if dangling from a cable, center stage. The moist, fresh air filled our senses with the fragrance of new earth, new beginnings and second chances.

“There are things that we never want to let go of, people we never want to leave behind. But keep in mind that letting go isn’t the end of the world, it’s the beginning of a new life.” Author Unknown

Isn’t that spring? A time of new beginnings, fresh starts, renewed vision, budding hopes, blossoming dreams, new strength, inventive, creativity.

“Nearness to nature … keeps the spirit sensitive to impressions not commonly felt, and in touch with unseen powers.” The Soul of the Indian 1911 – Ohiyesa

The seed catalogs are filling the mailbox. Colored penciled charts, paper weighted upon the dining room table, forecast the future of moonlight gardens, butterflies, waterfalls of wisteria, wind chimes, a soft cover book, a nap in the hammock, the sound of rain upon the roof, bouquets of flowers, ducklings in soft down, pastel lotus blossoms turning to follow the sun, turquoise long-tailed skippers gathering nectar upon the lantana, hot oranges, pinks and yellows, and marshmallows over an open fire.

We are made of moments. There is no end, only a passing from one moment to the next and the shadow or light we share. As these moments are a part of us, we become a part of these moments.

“I give you one thought … I am a thousand winds that blow;
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain;
I am the gentle autumn’s rain.
When you awaken in the morning’s hush,
I am the swift uplifting rush;
of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft star that shines at night … ”
– Crazy Horse, Battle of the Little Big Horn.

Put down the sword. Pick up the spade. Turn down the war of spent shells and battlefield; listen to the bird’s song at dawn and the breaking of the ocean’s waves upon the shore. Plant a garden sweet and free. Plant an orange tinged rose for me.

Against a lavender sky, the rose scented breeze against your cheek, the sparkle of rain drops dazzling a leaf, a lone feather upon your path, no matter the distance between us, in these moments I am with you. Children go well and safe into the universe making your own moments. May inspiration be as near as a sunbeam upon your shoulder. When you awaken in the morning’s hush, I am the swift uplifting rush; of quiet birds in circled flight … and always, back to nature.

Karen can be reached at

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