Thursday, June 30, 2022

Trembling Enchantment of Green

 

Trembling Enchantment of Green

"He who keeps a garden still his Eden keeps."


Don't get me wrong. I never wear green. Nothing in my house is green--no walls or furnishings. Green of nature enthralls me every year as though I had never seen it before. As I grow older (almost 63 now) (edit: almost 68 now) (now almost 76), it seems I appreciate it more....not sure why. The life I see in green is something Thoreau would appreciate. Nothing else seems to hold the peace and promise of green trees, foliage of yard plants, and the grass. Maybe it's just me. My St. Augustine grass has a depth to its green that is lacking in other grasses that I have observed. By no means have I experienced all the greens and grasses of the earth.

As I drove the back way from Huntsville, south to my home, avoiding the interstate, about 6:30 pm last Saturday, I was struck by the majesty of the land around me. There were few houses, a little mountain foothills  range, and absolute quiet. People must be at home eating, tending the last bit of their garden, or getting ready to go out on Saturday night, I thought. This road normally has many cars. Not so when I drove the 30+ miles home this evening.

Since I had the radio off, the drive seemed especially serene. From now on the radio will be off so the noise won't interfere with the green experience. Ordinarily, I could not see green for the cacophony of my favorite music (60s and easy listening).

I passed the old barn right beside the road with the little stand for selling produce. No one has sold produce there for the last 25 years. The old man died. His widow insisted on raising and selling gourds. Maybe that is produce. Her son raised gourds just for her and filled a 6' x 6' x 4' high lattice bin, made just for her and her gourds. The bin has a nice roof and overhang for shoppers and gourds to stay dry and shaded.

One summer day, I saw her, bent and walking slowly. She wore a faded, printed cotton house dress, topped by a faded apron. She had a bonnet on her head and old knee socks scrunched around her legs. For years there was never anyone at the stand. The one sighting of her and a later conversation with a very young, respectful relative were the only means of communication except for the locked money box in which to deposit money to pay for gourds. Laughing gently, the relative said the old woman had the only key and checked it regularly.

Now, there are only very old gourds in the bin. It does not look like they raise gourds any longer. The young relative had pointed them out to me, up on the hill near the woods. Did she die? I wonder. Everything was too quiet and green to stop and inquire.

Even the dogs seemed to honor the peace of the green afternoon, soon to be dusk. All their masters must have mowed the lawns because every lawn was freshly cut. The scene was not marred by a jarring note. Mowers were gone. No cars were in sight in the yards and few were on the road. Nature, even subdued by a lawnmower, seemed to be in charge. For one moment, I wondered if it were this quiet a hundred years ago. Home awaits me.

Late Spring has given us over a week of rain which seems to have added another dimension to the green world. As I stood in the backyard today, hanging clothes on the line, I was struck by the fact that I could see only green as I gazed round me. Only the clothes, the chicks and part of the back of my house broke the green spell. The sky was blue with clouds. The 6 foot back fence was obscured by scuppernong vines and wisteria. Even the trunks of the trees were gone, hidden by privets that reached up toward the branches of the hickory nut trees and bowed to the ground, touching the grass. The low-growing limbs of the tree hid my car and the house next door.

The diffuse, trembling green of Nature seemed at her best. Green must be female, tantalizing us each day to play with her, to interact. Green has many agendas and roles--nurturing, playing, birthing, tending, feeding, burying, cleaning, listening, hiding. Green is there to discover as I increasingly have the last few days.

It all seemed too perfect, punctuated by two bright petunia plants, rescued from brown doom at Lowe's. I nurtured them back to their green and pink state. The old-fashioned roses on the back fence have faded, and I won't cut the vines until I see hips. Maybe I will have hips.

For a moment, I felt as if I were in a secret garden, seeing nothing and hearing only the birds and chicks. Sometimes, it is hard to tell them apart just by listening.

I had no horizon, only walls of green on four sides and a blue ceiling. The house is there, but from where I stood, I could not really see it. The blaze of the sun, though blinding, kept me focused on the green. Weeds grown up over my rock garden hid even the heat of the rocks so nothing emanated. It was all green, just green.

This feeling comes over me every year. Today pulled all the green I feel from the depths of me. I never told anyone before.

"He who loves a garden still his Eden keeps."  (sign in my yard)
A. Bronson Alcott

(Written on June 22, 2009, ten days after I had no TV)


(Note: June 22, 2011: I still have no TV. I can tell the chicks (now hens) from the birds chirping in the trees. Neighbors cut lots of green privets and put up a fence which the wisteria is starting to cover again. I will be 65 (edit: will be 68) in two months. Today is the same green month and day as when I wrote this.)

Okay, this is June 30, 2022. I use this post often and I am fast approaching 76.
Your turn
Does the green of nature touch you deeply? Does green, lush foilage renew you as it does me?

18 comments:

  1. Oh yes the green of nature renews me every year. And I love being able to smell all of the scents of the trees and bushes and flowers as they exhale their fragrance.

    And for as happy and renewed I feel as my world has greenery again, when the cold winds and damp and dreariness of fall and winter descends I feel so down as each day gets shorter.
    I am a spring and summer person.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. susie,
      I am definitely a Spring and Summer person. I, too, feel down in the dreariness of fall and winter. You and I feel the same!

      Delete
  2. Lovely sentiments. I just love all the colors of nature. It always amazes at the hundreds of shades of green there is.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Cheryl,
    Thank you. Green is such a peaceful backdrop for all the other colors.

    ReplyDelete
  4. Your post reminded me of how much I miss the rural south...green trees, beautiful gardens, flowers everywhere...our desert area is so brown and boring!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. COL,
      I think I would shrivel up and die in the desert. This was really rural where I drove often.

      Delete
  5. I love bright, bright colours and green is the best of them all, as far as I'm concerned!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Treaders,
      Actually, green is my least favorite color! But, the green of nature is different. I love the grass and trees.

      Delete
  6. It surprises me every year how deeply green the outdoors becomes and watching it grow day by day is always amazing.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Belinda,
      Me too! I think the end of June is the best time for green.

      Delete
  7. Your post, your writing, just slows us all down. Take the time to reflect on memories of days gone by and appreciate the beauty that is all around us.
    I appreciate the spring, my love for the summer is assured by my love of flowers, fresh produce. I love just as much the fall and the winter. When all things take a well deserved rest to prepare for the following year. The leaves turning brilliant colors, falling, leaving the trees striped to their elegance and purity. If I am lucky I will wake in the winter to the world covered by pure white sparkling snow. It also brings a sense of renewal to the soul.

    Thank you for the post, it is wonderful.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Texas,
      While I appreciate all things fall and any bit of snow in the winter, my heart needs the spring and summer. I am sad when the days grow shorter, really sad. I never regret any of the signs of Autumn or Winter. But, I want the sun and green and flowers, always flowers.

      You are welcome!

      Delete
  8. Wow. What a beautiful post. I love green for soooo many reasons, and it is my "signature color." Emerald is my birthstone. I love the Green of spring and summer, and watching the lawn, trees, hostas, and other plants come back to life each spring fills me with joy and hope. I have enjoyed many moments in my backyard watching and listening to the leaves move in the summer breeze, feeling the grass beneath my feet, and watching the various critters move about the plants all about. There is little that refreshes my heart, mind, and soul to be surrounded by green in nature...just me and the flora.

    Sassybear
    https://idleeyesandadormy.com/

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Breenlantern,
      Then, you know how I feel. It is a renewal of my soul. I once stood in my yard hanging out clothes and could see nothing but green. It was wonderful. Wisteria grew on the back fence. Shrubs and hanging tree branches shielded one side, while grape arbor (9x18) shielded the other side. It was such a wonderful sort of secret garden.

      Oddly, green is my least favorite color. In nature it suits me!

      Delete
  9. Green is absolutely my favorite color. I often wear a muted green. I always loved being in the south for the same feeling you so beautifully spoke about. Southern California tends to be more brown than green, Here flowers grow in abundance if you have water. The lack of rain and water is sad because you can grow most anything in my area. Our problem is the lack of water. We are encouraged to not water grass or wash cars. We get fewer than 12" of rain a year.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Janet,
      The South is lush, always green, it seems. We get over 60"/yr. I tend to think of California as always green. Too bad you cannot grow other things.

      Delete
  10. When I lived in the midwest, June seemed to be one huge green thing - lush and emerald. It was lovely.

    ReplyDelete

Grocery Ads

 It's amazing. There is absolutely nothing in the grocery ads from five stores that is anything I want or need. NOTHING! Usually, there ...