When winds batter this coast, and dead branches fly all over the yard, I do not panic any more. All this action will get rid of deadwood, branches that cannot produce fruit or bloom.
This apple tree has been duly punished all winter long. The few branches that remain are full of new blossoms, ready to burst into fruit clusters.
These same winds can throw branches right through the roof. Ouch!
These barren branches will become tepees for my pole beans.
Nothing will go to waste
Everything has a purpose in the big scheme of life.
15 comments:
I agree, the winds are nature's pruners!
nothing will go to waste...i like that...
Ahh yes.. and nicely illustrated.
It is true, in nature nothing goes to waste.
Mother Nature was way ahead of us on this recycling thing!
I like that, everything has a purpose! :) I miss my nice, big backyard!!! :)
To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heavens...
It's always best to get rid of the dead wood, isn't it. To make room for the new.
I was just thinking the other day how sometimes the heavy snow fall trims the trees nicely...of course, in my yard, there is some ugly damage as well.
I have read that hurricanes, despite their apparent violence, replenish oxygen in the atmosphere.
The architect of the universe certainly created interesting interactions which balance our existence.
Unfortunately, we, not recognizing this phenomenon, have unbalanced so many of of these interactions.
Nature knows...nature knows.
Every week when we get home to the country house, we have to go round and pick up all the branches that have fallen during the week.
I never thought about how useful the wind is in that manner!
here, my silly sentimental picture for you, a dream i have:
it's an eclipsed photo, solar flare at the top of her head and at her knee. she is crouched in the soil, her bum sticking out behind her threatening to touch the earth. her hand is awning to her eyes but all for naught. she smiles. it spills out from the framework of her face. she holds a gardening spade on a slight angle and the tip threatens to puncture soil. but none of that matters. what matters is who holds the camera. he - brighter, warmer, more flare than the sun itself. he'll set the camera down and go to her there. lend a hand. draw her up. there will be no planting of the garden today, and as they leave, the sun will fill the frame.
xo
erin
A beautiful post; appreciating life is all about seeing the possibilities in everything. Like how order is born from chaos, and beauty from despair.
Post a Comment