Not the year for crabapples

If it's not one thing... it's another.

It is not the year

For crabapples

But when crabapples

Are not in store,

Other things find their way.

The grapevine

Winds its way

Up the crabapple

To reach the sun.

The elderberry bush

Has never looked so good.

At church

There are green beans

At the door

Every time I go in.

I go in more often

These days.

It is not the year

For crabapples.

It is the year

For so many

Other things.

Home in the rain

Today I see individual things and marvel at them. 

The elderberry bush

Has three clusters of flowers

Where last year

There were two.

The cat sits in a favorite spot

Under the rocking chair,

Absent the sun.

It is rain this morning.

I am home

An entire day;

Home

To see the rain

The cat

The elderberry

Delight in it all.

More elderberries

Worth noting.

Journal entry, August 9, 1854

"To Boston. 'Walden' published. Elder-berries. Waxwork yellowing."

                                                                Henry David Thoreau

Exactly

One hundred sixty years ago

Walden

Came on the scene.

A man of few words:

Henry David Thoreau.

A man

After my heart.

My elderberries

Have long since

Gone to the birds.

His elderberries

Were worth noting,

Next to Walden

And of course

A trip to Boston.

Planting

I am almost ready to plant annuals.  Almost, but not quite.  First I pay attention to what the perennials are doing.

  

The clematis

Returns.

It begins

To vine its way

Up the porch pillars.

The rhubarb accomplishes

Its first spring growth.

The elderberry is leggy

With leaf buds.

Perhaps it’s time to fill

The planters in front,

The planter in back.

Still

I will give them

A few more days.

The weather carries hope

For planting.

I have had such hope

Before.

A few more days

Of clematis and rhubarb

I may be ready for pansies

In front

In back

I may be ready

For pansies.

Elephant ears

There are at least two ways to go with gardens...bigger or smaller.  I*m thinking bigger.

The rhubarb is a patch

Of elephant ears,

African elephant ears,

At one end of

What used to be

The garden bed

Until the boards rotted away.

Now it slides to lawn.

The ears flap

I can hear the elephants

Trumpet a call

For containment.

The boards come twelve feet long

At Home Depot.

I think a garden six by twelve

Might work to contain

The elephant ears,

The elderberry and more.

It might give all of us room

To play.

Mere twigs

I am in a waiting frame of mind.  Sometimes it feels more hopeful than others.  

Years ago my sister Jane took a five year old child to a play of How the Grinch Stole Christmas.  It was one of his favorite books.  The Grinch was very, well, Grinchly.  Pretty soon her small friend began whimpering, so they went out to the lobby.  But Michael, she said, you know how it ends.  

In a small voice he said: It might be different this time.

Even though I know the way the whole Story ends, it is hard for me to remember sometimes.  Sometimes things appear more hopeful than others.  That*s why I need other people to wait with.

The elderberry bush

Is mere twigs In the garden bed.

It joins the leafless trees and bushes.

I know they will return to leaf

In the spring.

They always do.

The elderberry bush

Has only a hope

of return.

I would like to check its roots

For life.

I clip the clematis vine

Back to the ground.

I have seen it return fuller

Every spring.

I throw out the collapsed pumpkins

From the pots in front.

The squirrels have thoroughly mined them

For seeds.

Perhaps there will be a pumpkin vine

When the weather comes warm again.

New this year,

The elderberry bush

Is a complete unknown.

Sticks in the garden bed.

Mere twigs.

I know there is hope underground.

It will not show itself alive,

Potentially come on the scene,

Until spring.

More purple

I am watching the fall changes.  It seems the elderberry is more purple than when I planted it.  I don*t think it is really... but in contrast to other leaves around it, and maybe the fall light which comes in at a different angle, it looks more purple.  Different perspective, I think.  I will have to see what it does in the winter and spring.  Next year there may be fruit.

The elderberry bush has rooted firmly

In the garden bed 

next to the rhubarb.

Its leaves are more purple

This fall.

Of course It might be just the contrast

With the colors changing

Everywhere else.

It*s hard to know.

More purple than what?

More purple

Than what I remembered when I planted it

In early June?

I wonder when the leaves fall

Yellow and orange around it,

I wonder

Will it look greener somehow?

I wonder what it does

In winter:

Go underground and dormant

Like so much else?

It is my first year

With the elderberry.

I will need to wait to see

What happens next.

Lessons learned at the doctor*s office

One of my clergy friends wore a red hat to the bishop*s retirement party.  It was awesome.  I could never have pulled it off (I don*t do hats well, any size hat).  She, however, wore it well, with panache.

Usually I am able to sluff off patronizing remarks, though some days are more difficult.   I have made it through the six month no-driving thing, and am out the other side, for now.  And now there is another test ordered to scan my carotid arteries.  

Somehow planting the elderberry bush, and planting it deep, seemed the right thing to do after that doctor visit.

A doctor my age or older

Is less likely

to patronize me.

Even the doctor*s gender

Does not seem

A determining factor.

I understand

I am now

In the older category.

I still have a fifteen year old

At home

And getting a physical

For an internship

Is not just

A nice way to keep busy.

I would rather garden.

The internship will not be

Pleasant volunteer work

Making lace doily placemats

For the nursing home.

Oh sure

I think, but do not say,

 I*ll come back

For regular TB tests

So I can see all of you

More often.

Yesterday I planted

The elderberry bush

Next to the rhubarb.

I dug deep so its roots

Would find a home

Next to the rhubarb roots.

I will watch it bloom and fruit

But first I want to make sure

Its roots

Have room enough.

Elderberry

The name of the bush did not resonate with me until I got it home and opened the trunk of the car (Yes, I*m Still Driving!).(Thank you for asking).  It is named Black Lace and it has intense purple-black foliage, finely-cut, similar to a Japanese Maple.  It can be pruned in a formal way, or used as a privacy hedge.  See? What did I tell you?   Elder and Graceful and Elegant.  And saucy enough to grab me by the ankle, and make me take it home.

The last elderberry bush

In the whole nursery

Leapt and grabbed my ankle

Tripped me to the ground.

I had to buy it.

Now I need to find

Where it will live

In the yard.

I think its name

Is no surprise:

The elder part.

All the same it is graceful

And elegant,

Two things I have always

Wanted to be.

Despite appearances

I have coveted grace

And elegance

While not being willing

To give up comfortable shoes

And garden dirt

Under my nails.

I have desired boundless grace

Effortless elegance.

I will plant the bush

Where it will bloom pink

Provide fruit for the birds

In full sight

Of the dining room window.

Grace and elegance are good things

To witness daily.