zero grow thirty.

last night at the behest of b. fleischmann's sendestrabe i was visited by a strange dream:

nighttime porching, just chilling in my chair with company, eyes forward,

and an infrequently recurring character whom i call the dream director, a slight long-haired egyptian fellow (i presume), appears with an egg on the porch.  wielding the egg as a wand, his eyes compel me to pay close attention & the egg glows&shudders.

it's hatching now. reds crackling into orange&yellow hues and a tiny ball of flesh emerges, glowing too. she darts flying to bounce around the space of the porch as if we were surrounded by a twilit force field only to land by the door transforming into a 3-4 year old blonde-haired little girl asking "how did i get here, da?"

to which i reply chuckling, "why, i've known you since you were just a little chick!"

then the dream director leans in close to murmur mysterious things about transitive states as i am waking up.

sometimes life throws curveballs, or the house stacks the deck, or our karma runs deeeeeep, or whatever.
     just one more way that gardening mimics life, or further evidence that nothing in the universe is  
                  connected. ha.

the garden and life teach patience many ways & one of those is the proclivity towards failure.  sometimes experiments don't work.  but there is no waste in nature so there is no failure in our future:

only opportunities for learning.

time is room to make mistakes. 

time is room to become better.

so what can the gardener do?

• plan for loss: attrition occurs even in balanced ecosystems
• recognize each unsuccessful experiment as an impetus to growth, adapation & evolution
• never stop trying... in fact, try harder: increasing the amount of attempts can only enhance the eventual amount of optimal outcomes

   the weather here has been behaving as if climate change was a theory, not a hypothesis, and local weather patterns were influenced by shifting patterns of global climate...or further evidence that nothing in the universe is connected. ha. 

   

   how about out where you are?

  

 as i sit in the midst of what i hope to be the last cold storm front of the season, i'm beginning to see the wisdom in falling far behind this year.  with temperatures still dropping into the 40s at night, i'm suddenly proud of myself for only planting out a dozen or so tomatoes in the gardens that i frequent. i'm sure as shit glad i haven't planted peppers or eggplants.

but the southerly winds of change are blowing in, and zero grow thirty is fast approaching...