We are now into July and the volume of birdsong has decreased markedly. The cardinals continue to sing throughout the day as they defend their territories and the robins chime in occasionally, but the overall soundscape is much quieter. The days are long and hot, abet largely without the suffocating humidity that has characterized recent summers. Of course, we have plenty of summer yet to go.
Our work has also calmed down as clients elect to spend time in the garden and at the lake, rather than coming in for therapy. We’ve moved through cabin fever and mud season, and have arrived at garden therapy time.
Speaking of gardens, ours started off well but our focus has been on moving and we have been less than attentive of late. The garden shows this. The beans I planted failed to come up and the first planting of lettuce has already begun to bolt. The annual flowers and the garlic are both doing splendidly, the flowers just coming into abundant bloom. What a joy to look out over a garden awash in bloom!
We continue to be up early, which allows us to see and delight in the bright, warm early morning hues. Already the morning shadows are lengthening, reflecting the increasing early day slant of the sun. Mornings are a delight to the senses, an invitation to stop and let in the very essence of summer.
Perhaps it is just this human experience of Nature as abundant and visceral that has led clients this week to talk about the sacredness of things, and their growing sense that most people no longer experience the natural world as sacred. How, they wonder, are we to save the planet or our souls if we cannot center ourselves in the abundance of All That Is? How are we to stop our headfirst dive into ecosystem collapse if we cannot understand ourselves and all life as sacred, and therefore requiring awe and protection?
I can only answer, :How indeed?”
Your garden therapy sounds wonderful Michael. I moved in the winter and don’t have a garden any longer, but got other possibilities, as I didn’t have for years. I will admit, that I miss my garden therapy, which helps me to center and see more clearly.
Wish you a beautiful summer 🙂
I’m always (usually) the optimist, but I can’t help but think that this planet of ours just may have reached tipping point.