The still season

Farm
Written By Christy

Lesson Learned

Prickly pear lives in my father-in-laws garden. It blooms every year. I asked about it on our last visit home. I was curious, had it always been there? Did he plant it? Turns out he planted it many years prior. I was surprised with cuttings in the mail months later. The sweetest wedding gift. I had it potted in the greenhouse over winter and it looked less than thriving come spring. Bless it, a good soak and dose of sunshine perked it back up.

Handwritten note resting on top of a wedding photo.
Prickly pear cactus arrangement in a rectangular concrete planter, a greenhouse wall behind it.

He warned to wear gloves and use tongs. I pulled an iris from a concrete planter beside the greenhouse, now home to my prickly pear. A simple repotting, right? I thought I could skip the tongs. Spent a good hour picking prickles out of my hand. Lesson learned.

An early start on fall clean up

Prickles gone, I carried on. This weekend was one of re-arranging. Moving plants from the front garden to the back, back garden to the front, from the barn to the greenhouse. This wasn’t the clean up I intended. But a quick walk through the field, all the butterflies, bees and pollinators happily fluttering about suggested what’s there needs to linger a bit longer.

A thornbird iris bloom opened, revealing pale yellow ruffles and deep purple veining.

So, the thornbird iris now lives in the front garden. I’m already dreaming of spring, when its large pale yellow ruffles, deep purple veining and fuzzy tongues are here again. The hellebore’s I’d been stowing away on the porch are planted out. Divided bits of woodland phlox, sprinkled in bare spaces for groundcover. Tattered and worn, the purple coneflowers were pulled to make room for a growing incrediball hydrangea. Still in full bloom, the black eyed susan’s left to linger. And an ostrich fern, previously in front of the barn now dances beside the greenhouse.

Overhead view of a newly planted green hellebore in a concrete planter with pea gravel beneath it.
An ostrich fern in a rectangular concrete planter with the outside wall of a greenhouse in the background.

There’s much to be done in the field for our next chapter. The knowing alone can overwhelm.

I told myself, “When the goldenrod blooms”. That is when I’ll return to the field.

The pollinators will have moved on to its golden blooms. Getting the last bits of nectar to prepare for winter. Following the goldenrod, bright white plumes of wild white aster, hinting at mounds of snow.

This unhurried, observing, arranging and re-arranging, letting things linger. Enjoying and realizing how incredibly special it is to be part of nature at all. It’s a gentle reminder that there’s beauty in the stillness and there’s time.

Bright yellow goldenrod blooms in focus, with bushy green foliage blurring into the background.
A honey bee collecting nectar from the bloom of a wild white aster.
Overhead view of a motorcycle tank and solar light sitting atop pea gravel on the outside border of a greenhouse.
A skink climbing along a concrete wall, looking down at a plant.

The tank? A garden gift from my husband. It has a hole and a U shaped tunnel on the bottom. It could probably be a planter. I thought the skinks might like it as a place to hide.


Til next time,
-C
Christy
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A QUIET SHIFT