These weeks are full. My baby’s second set of shots at the pediatrician’s. A gardening class in a new space. The overnight visit to a mountain of dandelions with friends.
Here, the days are already longer than where I’ve lived before. The sun rises before 6 and sets at 9. Summer solstice is still a month away. What were bare walkways are now tunnels of green. A new season (and my bday)—soon here!
Despite the lengthening days, time continues to feel impossibly short. With a baby, it is even more wiggly. There are countless things to do. In the fray, it’s been helpful to have a few connections to nature.
C’s dad gave us four fruit trees—plum, pear, apple, and cherry—now nestled on our patio. A clutter of tables and chairs surround them, in preparation for a lunch with those who helped us stay fed through the early infant haze. Reflecting on this daily mess, material and mental, here’s a poem:
On Tuesdays, I help at a community garden. I’m reminded of how nourishing being outside with others is. As a gardening teacher, I was always yammering to the kids about getting their hands dirty. How valuable it is to touch earth. And how beneficial it can be to do repetitive tasks with our hands and bodies under certain conditions: when we can take our time, when it’s shared work outdoors, and when we get to see the fruits of our labor. There’s good work to be done together.
The trees nearby are full of birds. In their chatter and work, they too socialize. It’s helpful to step outside and remember that “home” is much bigger, and its with others, not apart.
Which leads back to why I started this newsletter: to connect! Y’all, I’d love to hear from you out there, when/if your busy lives allow. Through email or text, a comment, or a spontaneous phone call (for those who have my number).
Wishing you well out there <3
Joseph
Ah, and if you’re interested, here are two books and a podcast I’m enjoying:
Ursula K. Le Guin’s Earthsea Cycle Series (How I’ve not read these before, I don’t know!)
Pema Chödrön’s When Things Fall Apart (Thank you, Sara Johnson, for this gift long ago. It’s a book to which I regularly return)
Nic Antoinette’s How Much Money is Enough? Project