Our small garden has become a desert jungle after the rushing monsoon rains. The songbirds are visiting our feeder. The insects are buzzing. The hummingbirds are lining up on the branches of the bird of paradise, sucking the pollen from the flowers and then flying over to the hummingbird feeder. Thank you, monsoon rains. You've turned our desert garden into a wildlife paradise! And thank you, Susan, for helping us to appreciate the green while it is there.
What a wonderful image of life thriving in your desert garden, Phyllis! I find the flourishing of birds and flowers and grasses so hopeful after these monsoon rains. I needed that reminder that life will continue, no matter how hard the times seem now. Hugs to you....
Thank you for that mega- dose of beauty! There is so much wonder and beauty in the natural world. Im always thrilled to find seedlings of plants already in the garden. What a gift!
Life itself is the inspiration, because it keeps persisting, no matter what humans do. There is a fence lizard clinging to my courtyard wall right now, toes clinging to the vertical wall, head swiveling, watching for insects to eat for lunch. And a red-red-red male house finch perched on my fountain, drinking from the bubbling water. The world of more-than-human species is a numinous and amazing place.
As pretty much a southwesterner (I came there at the age of five and except for several years in Florida and my current eight and a half years in Washington) I have lived most of my life in either Arizona or New Mexico. In Yuma rain was rare and occasionally torrential, but I really loved the monsoon rains of Tucson, Arizona, and Las Cruces, New Mexico. They always brought a sweet scent of the desert, followed eventually by the most fascinating flowers and insect activity.
In my years wandering around the desert I would be surprised by Sacred Datura, with its almost intoxicating smell, Owl Clover, Mexican Poppies, flowering cacti, or the red tassles of Ocotillo blooms. The buzz of various wasps and bees around flower spikes of Soaptree Yucca and Sotal, not to mention the lavender blooms of Desert Willow, were certainly interesting to me, as were the flighty motions of various butterflies. Once powered by the rain, the desert transformed into a delightful, if complex kaleidoscope of living things, each with their secrets and complicated relationships to other life forms and the landscapes they inhabited.
Your desert wanderings clearly brought you the magic of rain in arid places, David. I'm glad you have those experiences to inform your understanding of Life and everyday existence too. I hope you've written about them for the girls, because they are wonderful stories to pass on.
What a difference the rain made in such a short amount of time. We had more than two inches in less than an hour today in a "male" rain. Flood warnings add to my list of worries. A wet walk today after it stopped raining but not nearly as vibrant as your New Mexico snaps.
Eek! I am sending no-flooding hopes your way. I saw on the news that a dam in Wisconsin overtopped today, and I know that's a huge worry with all of the aging dams in the Midwest from the era of water-powered mills. May the weather there dry out soon.
Yes, the Manawa Dam was breached yesterday not far from here. Fortunately my own neighborhood was spared although many parts of Appleton found themselves underwater. I thought I heard shoveling yesterday afternoon and went outside to find my neighbor using his snow shovel to push water from his flooded garage to the storm drains.
Susan, you've written the message that we all need to hear right now: There is comfort in the beauty of wild of nature. Thank you for this gorgeous essay and all the delicious pictures.
Stephanie, Thank you. We get so wrapped up in human affairs that we forget there is a larger world out there with so much solace and inspiration to offer. And yet, every breath we take we owe to that world, specifically to plants and photosynthesizing algae like giant kelp, who "exhale" the oxygen we inhale. Without those lives quietly going about the business of making the sugars that feed every being, and in the doing breathing out oxygen, we would not be alive at all. We have so much to be grateful for going on around us all the time!
The Long View. When I need to rebalance, rest my brain, or simply 'get out of my head', I find the long view. Most often it's a horizon line familiar to me. The shapes, colors, and daily nuances give me context for whatever I'm struggling with. Whether it be a tedious work task, leadership nonsense, or spiritual fatigue, the long view brings me a bit of peace. ~Denine
What a lovely way to phrase that urge to find a wider perspective, Denine! "The long view" is something I tend toward too, for just the reasons you wrote. Sometimes that means a long look out the window, and sometimes it means a walk to a high point where I can see beyond my immediate surroundings. And as you say, it's always refreshing and also eye-opening, simply because that long view shifts our perspective. Blessings!
Your essay is like taking a deep breath of the air of the land. There is so much noticing and beauty. Being out on the land has never failed me yet in easing my soul and bringing joy. Even on days of adverse weather - there is still an immense depth of what I can only explain as the connection to real life, thus is centering and clarifying. Thank you for all your photos, words, and I will listen to your talk.
Jenny, I am glad that you can get out on the land, no matter the weather, and find your connection, rejuvenation and joy. I believe that belonging with the community of lives that make up the land is what ur souls crave, especially in these times. Blessings!
Thanks so much for this reminder, Susan! I’ve just finished up a trip to the Pine Ridge of northwestern NE with my family. What a gift to be in high and open spaces. So glad you’ve had rain!
That Pine Ridge country is beautiful, with the sandstone ridges and ponderosa pines. I'm so glad you could spend time there with your family. I hope it was restorative on all levels. Blessings!
It really is! I hadn’t been there before, and now I want to go back :-) it was very restorative, even though we only had two full days there. The stars were amazing!
I bet they were, and I hope you get to go back to Pine Ridge soon, or at least before winter. I'm glad you have a place like that close enough--I imagine you can get there for a weekend getaway.
That would be nice! Unfortunately, we're on one end of the state, and it's on the other - about 7+ hour drive. It does make me think I could go on my own at some point before winter, though. Hmm.
Susan, I loved how you pull us out of what seems hopeless, and remind us of the earth, and our, resilience. The non-human world reminds us this so brilliantly. Nature rejuvenates us. Our brains and bodies benefit from this so much. My treed backyard, and green sauce behind, the birds who visit, my garden, yoga, music, writing and walking my dog, are what replenish me and let me return to my natural state of optimism.
Gayle, Thank you for reading my post and for the lovely compliment. I am glad that you have your treed backyard and open space, as well as the birds and your garden, writing and yoga and walking your dog. All of those combine to afford solace and refuge for body, mind and spirit. If I ever write another garden book--I wrote The Rocky Mountain Garden Survival Guide some time ago as an instruction manual to gardening in my challenging region--I think it'll be The Refuge Garden, on how to create a garden/landscape that restores our wellness on all levels. Blessings!
You are so welcome, Rebecca. It's a wonderful resource, and I so appreciate the time you've put into collecting and curating the directory. And thank you for your words!
Our small garden has become a desert jungle after the rushing monsoon rains. The songbirds are visiting our feeder. The insects are buzzing. The hummingbirds are lining up on the branches of the bird of paradise, sucking the pollen from the flowers and then flying over to the hummingbird feeder. Thank you, monsoon rains. You've turned our desert garden into a wildlife paradise! And thank you, Susan, for helping us to appreciate the green while it is there.
What a wonderful image of life thriving in your desert garden, Phyllis! I find the flourishing of birds and flowers and grasses so hopeful after these monsoon rains. I needed that reminder that life will continue, no matter how hard the times seem now. Hugs to you....
And hugs back to you, Susan. With the human world pulsing with insanity, we need all the love and beauty we can get from the rest of the world.
True words. :)
Thank you for that mega- dose of beauty! There is so much wonder and beauty in the natural world. Im always thrilled to find seedlings of plants already in the garden. What a gift!
Love your photos. Thank you.
Life itself is the inspiration, because it keeps persisting, no matter what humans do. There is a fence lizard clinging to my courtyard wall right now, toes clinging to the vertical wall, head swiveling, watching for insects to eat for lunch. And a red-red-red male house finch perched on my fountain, drinking from the bubbling water. The world of more-than-human species is a numinous and amazing place.
As pretty much a southwesterner (I came there at the age of five and except for several years in Florida and my current eight and a half years in Washington) I have lived most of my life in either Arizona or New Mexico. In Yuma rain was rare and occasionally torrential, but I really loved the monsoon rains of Tucson, Arizona, and Las Cruces, New Mexico. They always brought a sweet scent of the desert, followed eventually by the most fascinating flowers and insect activity.
In my years wandering around the desert I would be surprised by Sacred Datura, with its almost intoxicating smell, Owl Clover, Mexican Poppies, flowering cacti, or the red tassles of Ocotillo blooms. The buzz of various wasps and bees around flower spikes of Soaptree Yucca and Sotal, not to mention the lavender blooms of Desert Willow, were certainly interesting to me, as were the flighty motions of various butterflies. Once powered by the rain, the desert transformed into a delightful, if complex kaleidoscope of living things, each with their secrets and complicated relationships to other life forms and the landscapes they inhabited.
Your desert wanderings clearly brought you the magic of rain in arid places, David. I'm glad you have those experiences to inform your understanding of Life and everyday existence too. I hope you've written about them for the girls, because they are wonderful stories to pass on.
What a difference the rain made in such a short amount of time. We had more than two inches in less than an hour today in a "male" rain. Flood warnings add to my list of worries. A wet walk today after it stopped raining but not nearly as vibrant as your New Mexico snaps.
Eek! I am sending no-flooding hopes your way. I saw on the news that a dam in Wisconsin overtopped today, and I know that's a huge worry with all of the aging dams in the Midwest from the era of water-powered mills. May the weather there dry out soon.
Yes, the Manawa Dam was breached yesterday not far from here. Fortunately my own neighborhood was spared although many parts of Appleton found themselves underwater. I thought I heard shoveling yesterday afternoon and went outside to find my neighbor using his snow shovel to push water from his flooded garage to the storm drains.
Susan, you've written the message that we all need to hear right now: There is comfort in the beauty of wild of nature. Thank you for this gorgeous essay and all the delicious pictures.
Stephanie, Thank you. We get so wrapped up in human affairs that we forget there is a larger world out there with so much solace and inspiration to offer. And yet, every breath we take we owe to that world, specifically to plants and photosynthesizing algae like giant kelp, who "exhale" the oxygen we inhale. Without those lives quietly going about the business of making the sugars that feed every being, and in the doing breathing out oxygen, we would not be alive at all. We have so much to be grateful for going on around us all the time!
The Long View. When I need to rebalance, rest my brain, or simply 'get out of my head', I find the long view. Most often it's a horizon line familiar to me. The shapes, colors, and daily nuances give me context for whatever I'm struggling with. Whether it be a tedious work task, leadership nonsense, or spiritual fatigue, the long view brings me a bit of peace. ~Denine
What a lovely way to phrase that urge to find a wider perspective, Denine! "The long view" is something I tend toward too, for just the reasons you wrote. Sometimes that means a long look out the window, and sometimes it means a walk to a high point where I can see beyond my immediate surroundings. And as you say, it's always refreshing and also eye-opening, simply because that long view shifts our perspective. Blessings!
Your essay is like taking a deep breath of the air of the land. There is so much noticing and beauty. Being out on the land has never failed me yet in easing my soul and bringing joy. Even on days of adverse weather - there is still an immense depth of what I can only explain as the connection to real life, thus is centering and clarifying. Thank you for all your photos, words, and I will listen to your talk.
Jenny, I am glad that you can get out on the land, no matter the weather, and find your connection, rejuvenation and joy. I believe that belonging with the community of lives that make up the land is what ur souls crave, especially in these times. Blessings!
Thanks so much for this reminder, Susan! I’ve just finished up a trip to the Pine Ridge of northwestern NE with my family. What a gift to be in high and open spaces. So glad you’ve had rain!
That Pine Ridge country is beautiful, with the sandstone ridges and ponderosa pines. I'm so glad you could spend time there with your family. I hope it was restorative on all levels. Blessings!
It really is! I hadn’t been there before, and now I want to go back :-) it was very restorative, even though we only had two full days there. The stars were amazing!
I bet they were, and I hope you get to go back to Pine Ridge soon, or at least before winter. I'm glad you have a place like that close enough--I imagine you can get there for a weekend getaway.
That would be nice! Unfortunately, we're on one end of the state, and it's on the other - about 7+ hour drive. It does make me think I could go on my own at some point before winter, though. Hmm.
I forget how long Nebraska is sometimes. But it's true, you could go for your own retreat sometime....
I know, it’s long! And yes I could:)
Susan, I loved how you pull us out of what seems hopeless, and remind us of the earth, and our, resilience. The non-human world reminds us this so brilliantly. Nature rejuvenates us. Our brains and bodies benefit from this so much. My treed backyard, and green sauce behind, the birds who visit, my garden, yoga, music, writing and walking my dog, are what replenish me and let me return to my natural state of optimism.
Thank you for your post!
Gayle, Thank you for reading my post and for the lovely compliment. I am glad that you have your treed backyard and open space, as well as the birds and your garden, writing and yoga and walking your dog. All of those combine to afford solace and refuge for body, mind and spirit. If I ever write another garden book--I wrote The Rocky Mountain Garden Survival Guide some time ago as an instruction manual to gardening in my challenging region--I think it'll be The Refuge Garden, on how to create a garden/landscape that restores our wellness on all levels. Blessings!
I’ll be reading that, Susan!
It's out of print, but you can find it used or perhaps through inter-library loan. :)
Thank you for linking the directory, Susan. I loved this piece.
You are so welcome, Rebecca. It's a wonderful resource, and I so appreciate the time you've put into collecting and curating the directory. And thank you for your words!