I just realized I can’t wait for spring.
And it is August.
So much of this year has been about laying out new beds and getting a feel for our new space. I find myself impatient for a vegetable garden with the kind of harvest that fills jars, bins and the freezer. I want an established, bountiful garden and I want it right now.
Of course, that is just another lesson the garden teaches.
Unlike me, the sparrows are rejoicing in my barren newly built vegetable beds. They are dust bathing up a storm. In their frenzy they have also took over the lone birdbath until it was wing tip to wing tip, forcing me to buy a second much bigger one. That bath too is now full of birds from morning to night as they fly back and forth between bathing in the soil and then bathing in the water. Or perhaps the reverse. It is hard to tell.
It is crazy to think that the hundreds of house sparrows in our backyard way up here in northern BC, all descended from a handful that were released in New York’s Central Park in 1850.
Unlike my bouncing grasshopper mind, the garden is always in the present moment. It doesn’t care where the seeds or birds or soil came from, it just works its magic with what it has. Nothing more, nothing less.
When it is August, it is all about August. The garden doesn’t waste time wishing it were April. It isn’t trying to get anything done, it just is.
The garden gives itself to every season and each situation with ease and enthusiasm.
A barren vegetable bed? Bring on the summer birds!
I need to be more like my garden.