Growing thoughts on my interwoven world of flower farming and creative writing.
Thursday, July 21, 2011
My post-bee attack strategy is to be more aware in the garden. . . It is not a good idea to weed in the evening, after the sun has gone down, but even so, I should've heard the buzzing as the bees went in and out of that hole in the ground. I've been back to the scene of the attack several times, and they are easy to see and hear as they go about their business. I must've been in some kind of Zen meditation state, completely focused on the task at hand (removing the weeds from around the mint), or maybe it was completely the opposite--maybe I wasn't focused inward or outward, maybe I was just being oblivious. . . At any rate, when I work, now, in the garden, I tread more lightly, I listen more intently. . Not only do the birds and insects (and snakes) have a great deal to say, a great deal to teach me, but so do the flowers. . . For many years I thought I had to harvest and sell every bloom in the garden to make a profit. . . I was over-harvesting the flowers to death, literally. There were no seeds to self-seed. Not enough strength to spread. The flowers were trying to tell me this, but I wasn't listening. . . Now when I go into the garden, I stop, look and listen. There are not only warning signs, but so many secrets just waiting to be shared. It is truly a sacred place.
I teach Fiction Writing on-line for Union Institute out of Brattleboro, VT and co-own and operate a specialty cut flower farm on the Eastern Shore of MD. I am a published poet and short story writer and am currently in search of a literary agent to represent my first novel, "We Were Here." Contact me at email@example.com And please visit our website at Galenablooms.com