Sam had a joy ride this morning first thing when she spied a bunny on the lawn. She almost caught it too, and it would have been fun to see the shock on her face if she actually intercepted it.
The garden was let go in December, a water shortage decision as much as from the disastrous freeze, and it was turned from and ignored, no water at all, no tending or training the tender broccoli stalks onto bamboo supports as planned. Yesterday was a knock-around day and the trees out front were getting a nice long drink from the well by this emboldened water thief in broad daylight, and I went around back to clean the beds. And lo and behold what I found were many happy little green cabbages and broccoli and cauliflower plants working hard to make a go of it.
I was proud. The artichoke even chimed in with a baby thistle. The Bearded Iris and Daffodils are sprouting up, so sure they are of spring. They may be right: there is no winter weather in the foreseeable forecast.
To see them doing so well was a cause for celebration, so I hauled out the hose and tended everything green and living with a nice long drink, and vowed to wash dishes by hand if need be to redistribute water more effectively.
An Arborist walked the land today and we talked trees. Our 60 footers are youngsters and not even halfway to their eventual 125 ft height. I closed my eyes and imagined the glory of them owning the sky, how many more bird families will find solace in their branches and a suitable place for raising their young. That is why the Great Horned Owls will come again and again. I can already see home from the freeway before I hit the exit ~ miles away, and the Valley Oaks and Black Locusts and Canary Island pines stand clustered protectively around the home with the little bright light on the garage that shines from dusk til dawn.
A definite yes to mindfulness of everything green, in peace and plenty.
