It’s been a weird old winter. Not only have we been months in lockdown, experienced four days of power outage, witnessed severe storms that felled hundreds of large trees in the forest and last Wednesday morning a 5.8 earthquake!
Thankfully, there was no damage but we had such a fright. My heart goes out to all people and animals who have experienced mother nature’s anger. Maybe she’s trying to tell us all something. Stay well and be safe.
Sharing time together and the power of ritual, nature and love.
Today as the new school term begins I am home and very excited to be a retired teacher. However, I am now calling this portion of life – renewal. May you too find your renewing moments this week – happy garden life.
After our wintry summer in the Czech Republic we have returned filled with newfound vigour and hope.
Life does deal us remarkable events. This beautiful tree in Northern Tasmania, near Boat Harbour has come to symbolise new family connections and the strengthening of familial bonds – both near and far.
It’s been a gruelling few days. My arms ache, my legs ache and when I close my eyes I see WEEDS, WEEDS and more weeds. Our garden is quite large and the recent heavy rain and heat has encouraged everything to grow a trillion times over. But what has really made my job arduous is the ivy.
I HATE IVY. Now you will never, ever read that I hate anything – I am quite accepting, especially when it comes to nature. However, over the last ten days since I returned from the sub tropics I have given myself the task of working the garden for at least two hours a day. As I can never stop myself I often spend five or six hours out there with the cats and chickens and, yes of course, the ivy. Here is what I have to contend with…..
A little climbing ivy!
A variegated variety!
Some pretty ivy…
And then there’s the ground cover ivy….
So, it’s this type of ground covering ivy that I am tackling – and really, to no avail. So, I have decided to not despise it but look at ways go admire and embrace its potential. Just like many things in life which are beyond our control, the ivy now for me represents steadfastness, determination and survival. It is more than just an out of control aspect of the garden. Delving into historical representations of ivy I found that it was a symbol of royalty, often woven as crowns for gods in Greek and Roman mythology. Bacchus wore a crown of ivy and of course Yuletide decorations included English Ivy in and around country households – fireplaces, candles, wreaths and, of course, to decorate the Yule log itself. In matters of love, ivy is symbolic of fidelity and constancy.
I guess then I am looking at ivy for its potential – what it can give back to us. Yesterday, while we attended a Christmas function at the historic 1850’s homestead in Eynesbury, I couldn’t help but notice the controlled ivy feature…
Yes, now I see its beauty and potential – sometimes we have to look at challenges in other ways. In the greater scheme of things, the ivy is part of the garden – tame it or tolerate it – but I now choose to turn it into an asset – with a little guiding hand, of course. Do I now love ivy? Let’s say, I have chosen to use it to my advantage. Have you ever had to look at challenges in creative ways? Enjoy the Yuletide preparations.
crabandfish garden 