Loving Lupins

The first things that caught my eye at the accommodation in Kinloss were the lupins. Majestical and noble, they were standing guard at the entrance of the path up to the house. Although their spines looked very straight, they were far from stiff, with their delicate, pea-like flowers growing in dense whorls around a tall spike in a soft apricot abundance. ‘Welcome!’ they waved to me as I entered further, and was pleasantly distracted by a group of bright red Papaver orientalis surrounded by at least five different colours of aquilegias. “This looks good!” I exclaimed. “I like this little garden.” 

The owner of this temporary home, at the moment in Canada until mid July, immediately recognised the herbaceous perennial plant on the photo I sent. Last year his woman friend had taken some of its seeds — which come in a pod as fruit— to sow in her own Canadian garden. Two gardens, two people on different sides of the earth, connected by lupins and love. Most likely they grow very well there.

There are many species of the Lupinus albus and perennis, and they grow everywhere in Europe. For thousands of years they have been found around the Mediterranean, as well as in North and South America, where, it has been discovered, especially in the Andes, the legume seeds or beans have been grown for food for 6000 years. From my agricultural years in the Netherlands, I remember that farmers grow them as green manure, to nourish the soil. A meadow full of these yellowish flowers looks astonishing. Nowadays the lupin bean is increasingly popular as food again, as a healthier alternative to soya beans. Full of protein. An antioxidant and a prebiotic. And gluten free!

I would start to grow them in my veggie patch right away. Lupins. And more lupins. Partly to nourish and heal the body, partly as an ornamental flower to heal my heart and to brighten my days.

Now bring me that garden! As that is still missing. With a house, my long-term home to be. Yes, please!

© Blog 46, photo and text  9th June 2016, Kinloss.  © Adriana Bijman    

This is a shortened version, the whole version will be in the upcoming book!

Gardening again

Now we write May again and although snow was forecasted for this coming weekend, the sun is out. The chalet, where I am temporarily staying in The Park has a south-facing terrace and herb bed, both yelling to be tended. The gardener in me can’t wait to respond. Weeding is the first thing that needs to be done. With the physical condition I have at the moment — amongst which vertigo with constant dizziness and distorted eyesight— it seems an overwhelming and Herculean task. I do not know how to begin gardening again! Kneeling to do the job? No! Squatting? No way. OK… sitting and moving on the ground then? That might work….  Oh my goodness! Is this something all less-able people have to go through? I never knew!

I am painfully clumsy, like a drunken sailor. For one and a half hour I try to ‘keep calm and keep on weeding’, puffing and sighing while every move of my head causes everything to swirl around. Until I have to stop from nauseousness. It is the most disappointing and frustrating experience I have had in this last half year here in The Park.

But OK, I pruned the sage. I weeded three meters of terrace tiles. I tackled a big long rooted nettle family. They’ll end up in tonight’s soup. With quite some effort I did fill more than half a brown compost wheelie bin with weeds and old branches. I did it! Now I’m proud to have gardened again.

Blog 44, text & photo © Adriana Sjan Bijman, May 2016

The joy of flowers and herbs

It has been and it always is a great joy to photograph plants, which I’ve been doing for many years. With an interest in, and love for wild and cultivated flowers since I was a young girl in the Dutch countryside, I now have a large photo-archive full of flowers and plants, made in the areas I lived in or on my travels around the world.

“The wonders of nature are like new every year” author Wendel Berry* writes.   I love gardening and see the daily changes in plants, from seed to bud to blossoming to the releasing of seed again at the end of the cycle. Such a great example of life! The flowers in our gardens are grown in a natural way, without chemicals, just organic compost, manure, love and lots of appreciation. I loved living with them in my own garden at home, at the studio, and in other gardens.

With every herbal greeting card, with every little bag of herbs or seed in it we give you:

The promise of life enfolding

The joy of growing and releasing, all in perfect timing

The blessings of good health

The abundance of colour, form and fragrance

The encouragement to express your love for the Earth

The miracle of Life

—   You are also all that!

Herbal cards:  greeting cards with a herbal gift: seeds or herbs for tea or bath.

The new herbal greeting card series with inside a present from the Findhorn Gardens: Six different herbal greeting cards, (15x15cm/6x6” with coloured envelop) with a cute bag of seed and herbs to grow in your garden or in pot (like nasturtium, calendula and papaver), to make yourself a tea (fennel, lady’s mantle) or to use in the bath (lavender). Wonderfully illustrated with photos and explaining story about the herb. Hand harvested in the Findhorn Gardens. With instructions.  For sale in my online shop http://www.findhornimages.webs.com

·       Life is a miracle, Wendel Berry  (2000)

© text and photo Adriana Sjan Bijman, 2015  blog 41

Signs of Summer

Peonies in my garden, June 2015

Signs of summer. Well, it is June and I still have the heating on, so that’s not such a good sign. But in my garden! The daily changes in the plants are the signs of summer for me. Take the strawberry plants: from a delicate white flower to a little ball in its centre, to slowly growing into a real recognisable strawberry fruit, although still yellowish. Is that not a little miracle in itself?  To see the bright yellow flowers appear on the zucchini, the swelling of the blackberries, the pink and lilac roses… and as a highlight to see the many peonies open and be present in all their majesty. I love it! 

Signs of summer

Slowly appearing in the garden

Sensual

Radiant red

Ravishing Titian red

Rebellious red

Beetroot, blood and radishes,

Nevertheless sweet, as strawberries

Slowly appearing in the garden

With generosity, like the smile of a lover.

And a longing heart

Heated, redder than red, helpless suddenly

When She appeared in my garden.

Signs of summer

Bewildering peonies: the Paeoniaceae

Gorgeous poppies: the Papaverus orientalis and rhoeas

Zinging zestful zinnias: the Zinnea peruviana

To name but a few of them.

Blog 38, text and photo © Adriana Sjan Bijman, June 2015

Day and Night, Dark and Light

Tree blossoms at Findhorn - Dark & Light

We’re living the longest days of the year here in the northern hemisphere. The nights feel too short to rest from the at times overwhelming intensity of the light. Some friends have put up extra curtains to be able to sleep in the dark.  A song, well known here in our community, says, “Be still and know that day and night, that dark and light, are one holy circle.”

During these two weeks three community members left their body to rise into the realm of the Light. Well, after a challenging end in the physical, I believe that’s where they’ll be going. To the Light.

For this month’s entry of my Light Scribble I chose an image of young trees still in blossom in my garden against a dark background, a play of dark and light. 

The Mother, in one of her guided messages about white flowers tells us in ‘The Spiritual Significance of Flowers’ that “white light is the light of the Divine Consciousness in its essence. In this white light all other lights are contained and from it they can be manifested, for this reason white also indicates integrality, completeness and totality, especially the integrality of the being in all its parts, from the physical being to the true self.”

So take a deep breath. Inhale the light. Let the white flowers enter our heart and trust their light will shine on the darkness. 
To know this brightens my day.

© photo and text: © Adriana Sjan Bijman, June 2014