paths
"You enter the forest at the darkest point where there is no path." (Joseph Campbell)
The garden's a metaphor for life, and life's lessons are learned in the garden. I spend quite a bit of time tending paths.
The garden's a metaphor for life, and life's lessons are learned in the garden. I spend quite a bit of time tending paths.
In the garden, as in life, you have to find your path. But finding it and building doesn't mean that's the end of it. Without effort it's not going to stay like that. After all, the only certainty is change, as the path, the garden and its nurturer grow and evolve. If you don't care for the path, it will become overgrown and weedy, and before long you'll lose it.
Of course you may decide you want to lose it. As things change you may decide it's in the wrong place and want to change the garden design and structure.
You have to sweep your path, because otherwise it will end up being hidden underneath piles of leaf litter and soil.
I love tending to the garden paths. It's relaxing and meditative. And afterwards, when the paths have been weeded, swept and cleared, the whole garden looks better. I like to think of myself as not obsessional, but where paths are concerned, I do wonder...
The pavers become uneven after a while, and I worry someone will trip. A few days ago I sprinkled heavy sand into the spaces between the pavers and swept it in an attempt to fill in the gaps.
Some paths are made of bricks, some are made of pavers. Some paths are covered with moss. I don't clear it. It's not slippery. It feels deliciously soft and spongy underfoot. As the weather gets hotter and drier I suppose it'll disappear.
Can't see the forest for the trees? Find a path through the jungle and it just might help us work out our priorities in life.
"You enter the forest at the darkest point where there is no path." (Joseph Campbell)
I adore your metaphors and analogy. And I love your paths which call for happy wandering.
ReplyDeleteIt speaks loudly to me. You may like to read a post expressing similar thoughts I created last year for a flash fiction challenge. If interested you can find it HERE .
Of course I'm interested. I love your writing, EC, and am so pleased you find resonance in mine. Blogging is a wonderful means of expression, isn't it?
DeleteThank you. I hope it doesn't disappoint. There is a part of me which felt she had come home when I discovered the blogosphere.
DeleteYour writing never disappoints, EC. For example, the lovely way you use the metaphor of 'coming home' in relation to the blogosphere! And I agree.
DeleteThat's a lovely meditation for an October morning, thank you. I've always found rich and valuable meaning in the work of Joseph Campbell and your post is inspired.
ReplyDeleteIn my own garden (and life) I am afraid the Henry Beard definition comes to mind:
"Path: the shortest distance between two eyesores."
I'm so pleased you appreciated the post, HB, and thanks for that quote - it's is very funny.
DeleteI loved reading this, thank you. Very timely as I was only looking at our garden paths yesterday and today, thinking they good do with some maintenance. Now I'm wondering if there isn't a deeper impulse behind the noticing.
ReplyDeleteThanks for this. There may be a deeper impulse, but weeds are weeds, aren't they, no matter what they mean!
DeleteWhat a wonderful post, Sue! I've been "meditating" on what to do about my paths, some of which have sunk and others which have been swamped by the creeping thyme planted around them. Leveling the one path will entail a lot of work while cutting back the thyme is easy but tedious. Both projects are nonetheless worthwhile.
ReplyDeleteSome of mine are sinking too. It's a drag because I think to fix them would definitely be out of my comfort zone. I'd vote for cutting back the thyme.
DeleteI haven't put as much construction and effort into my paths as you have in yours. Mine as mostly just mown paths that follow the contours and I'm not always good about keeping plants from falling over into the paths as the growing season progresses. Perhaps this means I am not good about staying the course.
ReplyDeleteI'm in awe of you managing to maintain grass that needs continual mowing. I got rid of all the grass years ago and my dog has never forgiven me!
Delete"Of course, you may decide you want to lose it." Beautiful! This is so poignant. The writing, the wisdom, the photos, the paths. Thank you.
ReplyDeletethank you, Beth, I'm so pleased you liked it.
DeleteI was just writing a blog post about how I had visited an award winning garden and somehow found my garden lacking after that. After some reflection I decided that my garden is not lacking at all, and I love it just the way it is!
ReplyDeleteI think it's wonderful that you came to that wise decision, AA. It's like the secret of happiness, enjoy what we have now ...
DeleteI agree, when the paths look tidy, the whole garden looks tidy. I like winding paths: a bit of mystery. Don't Want to know everything that is coming.
ReplyDeleteyes - as well as an element of surprise, you can't tell how large, or small, the garden really is.
Deletetrue. There is a winding S which loses its charm when the plants flop over and hide the curves. Tomorrow!
ReplyDeleteThe winding S will still be there tomorrow, even if it's hidden. Sometimes it feels like there's so much to do, and we can't do it all. I'm vaguely thinking of writing a post about working out my priorities in choosing what to do next in the garden. (I'm putting that off till 'tomorrow' too)
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