This past Saturday I prayed for good sales as they have been petty the past couple of farmers’ markets. No one is in the mood to see another plant die in this summer heat. So we focused on indoor plants, and the people loved our jades! Answered prayer. We had littler jade plants in small terra cottas or vintage pots.
And then we had trees … have you ever had a jade plant bloom? Please tell me about it!
At dusk the sunset shown scattered slivers of pink while driving to St. Charles County from Pike County. It reminded me of the sliver of pink on my father’s cheeks Grandpa pointed out while he and I visited Dad last evening. My 97-year old grandfather had not been able to make the 1-hour trip to see his son for 7 weeks due to the summer heat wave and car engine malfunctions. We made this trip possible especially this week. Hospice care seems to think this may be my father’s last week. The two, father and son greeted each other with gladness in their hearts and faces. Something I will never forget.
It seems wrong for a father to say “goodbye” to his son, no matter how old you are.
Their last words “You take care, son.” “See you later, Pops!”
Good bye is not forever … Thank You, Jesus for eternal life!
I felt a whisper of refreshing air last night while in the screen house repotting succulents into darling little vintage pots … maybe? Early today I stood by the opened patio door to hear the morning greetings of our feathered friends, and I felt the air change. Yes, autumn is around the corner! Every year for over 40 years, I have said those words “I felt the air change today”. I grew up watching the weather and hearing about it from my farmer father. He would read the Farmer’s Almanac, have a weather ban radio playing in his office every morning, evening, and on occasions of severe weather threats. Mostly I remember the feeling when a shift in air direction and the front would roll in with clouds and sometimes rain with it. And then the refreshing change. Awe! Autumn in 4 – 6 weeks, and saying goodbye to sizzling summer. My oldest daughter remembers these words well, too. Rachel wrote a poem about these words, her mother saying them, and autumn. And we chatted today about those words …
The woods begin to vibrate with gathering and preparation.
The sounds so crisp, electric.
Her words were “I felt the air change today.”
Red, orange, yellow, green, brown.
They dance while falling.
A choreographed waltz.
Every year she said “I felt the air change today.”
Beautiful, breathtaking, loyal.
The Canvas.
I think I felt the air change today.
This summer our fiddle leaf fig trees have shown much growth being outdoors under our shade trees with this Missouri humidity. Their leaves are bright green and shiny when they first leaf out. Our biggest one will not fit inside the greenhouse structure any longer. Its tap-root was pulled from the grounds of the greenhouse’s original site in May, and has grown another 3 feet since. It is the companion to one of our maple trees in the backyard. We will repot the “jolly green giant” and look for a buyer with a cathedral ceiling as it will not survive Missouri’s winter. I have grown to love our overabundance green foliage in the front and backyards. Wishing I lived at Hilton Head Island, SC or Savannah, GA where our plants would have a chance outdoors year round. But then again, I love Missouri’s autumn colors and spring’s growth and renewal from the frozen earth. Missouri has the four seasons, some shorter than others. This year, it has been a long summer. The day will come any time soon when I can say “I felt the air change today” in anticipation of autumn. More on that in another post … 
The rains came twice over the weekend! It was like a miracle! And with it came cooler air, more like normal summer temps, low 90’s. We loaded our plants into the van in the wee hours Saturday morning, to make it to the Lake Saint Louis Farmer’s Market. It was storming, but I kept at it in my rain poncho and Dean with his hat. Our plants seemed happier, as well as their gardeners! Later, I trimmed sun-scorched branches from some ferns, and moved them to more shade under the dogwood tree. Sunday we repotted plants. Our tropicals are gigantic, growing as long as they have water in their roots. They thrive in this humidity. Dean & I met at the front porch on several occasions this weekend. We watched the storms come in and shared porch meals. The green ambiance allows conversation to flow. The electronic devices in the house don’t have that skill! Our hearts mesh when surrounded with nature. Whether camping, walking in the woods, and sitting on our porch bench with lovely greenery and birdhouses surround, life is simpler with plants and birds. At least, most of the time! 
“For in the dew of little things the heart finds its morning and is refreshed,” Khalil Gibran shares with us. It was a “little things day” yesterday. I awoke early Sunday morning as usual, even after 3 of my grandkids’ slumber party continued well past my bedtime Saturday night, which needs to be at 9:00pm! After perusing the yard, taking in the morning sunlight, I returned to my kitchen to cook eggs, sausage, and toast before the little ones and my exhausted husband awoke. He was up late working on the jeep, trying to take apart the layers to access any engine damage. It looks like it is “fatal” as Dean says. Shopping for a new engine now, or a new vehicle. I let my husband work on those details while I played and relaxed with the grandkids. We watered the plants and played with the hose a bit. Frisbee and the neighbors’ dogs filled up the rest of the morning. After our afternoon nap and quiet time I feel refreshed. We watched a hummingbird visit the canna blossom. We played with a bouncy ball, colored, and watched a movie. I showed my granddaughters how to propogate cuttings of wandering jew and swedish ivy. The slower pace of the children quieted my spirit, even in the chasing after my 2-year old grandson. “The dew of little things …” 
This June the Japanese beetles made their way to our yard. (They are not really June bugs, but they arrive in June in my world.) And of course, we have much for them to munch on as our greenhouse is still in reconstruction. These shiny metallic looking green bugs seem to love our basil, and tasted the hydrangeas, geraniums, and hibiscus. We are thankful as the plants’ temporary home, our green screen house seems to capture the little critters. And while they mate on the screen, we capture them into jars that become their coffins. Dean & I seem to have conquered this bug invasion, but are on guard everyday, morning and night for the next couple of weeks. Beware!
My identical twin sister and I are close in many ways. Of course, we are close in age. But our looks, height, weight, markings, hair color, skin color, etc are very close as well. Those young childhood years we were instant playmates. Though during the junior and senior high school years we developed our own interests and friendships. So many personality traits are different. Yet we share a common interest in organic gardening, art, and the simplicity in living as mature adults. There is a close, understood bond with twins. And as we get older, this rings true in our relationship. Here we are, my twin sister Margie & I at age 2. I would love to hear your twin story.
The ambiance and local menu tonight was colorful. My huge kitchen is decorated with vases of our cut flowers and the fireplace mantle is overcome by beautiful blue hydrangeas from my parents’ yard. Dean & I’s dinner plates were filled with roasted spring root veggies and beef farm fresh by friends who allow their cattle to graze in their farm’s natural pastureland. I sit on my patio listening to the evening chatter of the birds and crickets until the summer night sky is dotted with fire flies. I needed some beauty in my life today.
My feline companions bat at the moth and June bug on the patio screen hoping to get a hold of them. Celine and Lily will need to stay inside as the neighborhood Great Horned owl visits our tall backyard maple tree some evenings. This may be one of those evenings. We protect our animals from harm with barriers like screen doors. Maybe similar to how our God sets up boundaries for us. I take in the beauty of our green friends, the plants we care for everyday. Tonight I will not water or trim or plant. I will sit and enjoy the greenery. They endured the sudden hail storm yesterday. Our elephant ear , banana trees, and birds of paradise have ripped leaves now. These plants will come through after some shedding. Is not life like that? We get hammered by hard blows, unwarrantly and needlessly. Yet, we rise again to be ourselves, probably better people for it if we allow. Thank you God for the beauty my eyes behold tonight, and the reminder that the heart heals.
I ponder the Photo Challenge of the Week: Hands. I keep coming back to the famous art work by Michelangelo’s “Hands of God And Adam”. Adam literally means “earth” in Hebrew, what God called His first man. This Hebrew word is derived from a word which means “to be red”, ruddy color like man’s skin or the Akkadian word “adamu” meaning “to make”. According to Genesis, Adam was made from the earth “adamah”.
With gardening, I feel the presence of God in all my senses. I touch the dirt, the living earth. I smell the basil as I plant it in the terra cotta pot, and hear the raindrops fall on its leaves. My eyes and heart see the delicate pink hibuscus blossom opened wide to the sunlight peaking above the green tree tops. And I taste the goodness of God when I indulge in my salad greens. God is good!
Deanna Greens and Garden Art 