The weedy garden of life

New flowers have appeared in the yard.

I'm pretty sure it's a weed. But due to its location at the perimeter of the garden (you can see the romaine lettuce just behind) and the cutesy splash of color, it has been spared - for the moment. The neighbor was firing up the barbeque for lunch when I trotted out to take a close up picture of the weed. "Freak," I'm sure he thought. Every time I venture around the backyard, there are new growth and little surprises. Though I sadly mourn the patch of purple flowers mown last Sunday, there is now a little patch of yellow flowers nearby (weeds all, I'm sure) getting their turn for some attention. And so life goes, death, destruction and rebirth. Cranky mood, bad mood, good mood. Infancy, adolescence, adulthood. I could go on. Without transformation, creation cannot exist. And so I marvel at the weeds, how unfortunate they are to have been born in a yard tended regularly by a mower. But still lucky enough to grow up in soil free of poisons and rich with the fecal matter of Sara. And look how each weedy flower head is different, tilting at different angles trying to look like the perfect fried egg. Maybe they're wild dwarf daisies, anyone know?

One half of one of the romaine lettuces is missing. I suspect squirrels, and am only too happy to provide them with a little roughage. After all, it is the zenith of Sara's day to spot one in the yard causing the scene to become cartoonlike, the squirrel darting and spastic and performing feats apparently impervious to gravity. I hope they stick around. And anyway, I planted hot peppers and onions too, so they're probably safe. Not that I'm really gardening at all for the foodstuffs, though that would be a nice bonus. It's really the tending to something, watching it grow, feeling attached to it and then grieving and grateful at the end where the real rewards lie in gardening. A study of the life process, or even a participation in the life process - makes you feel all connected and stuff. (grin)

And now I'd like to take you to the deep end. We are the backyard. Us. People. We've got our well groomed parts, and our weedy growths. We have boundaries. We manage to tend to our various facets and control them much of the time, but some things are beyond our control. We have our well attended to parts, and our shat upon parts, and little patches in the corner we ignore. Other beings rely on us and visit from time to time. And when I study my backyard, I feel like I am studying us at the same time, the whole incredible, messy business of life, each beautiful part integral to the whole. And then, in little glimmers and flashes, I see the face of the Universe, reflecting its patterns upon patterns of perfection. Ok, we can go back to the shallow end now.

I probably need to get out of the city more.