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

This is my view!

Findhorn dunes with gorse - photo ©

I have moved house this week. To a wonderful apartment with a fabulous view. Culbin Sands Apartments still carries in its attics and cellars the pain of the past, as Culbin Sands Hotel, from which it was told it was haunted, and much earlier, when the Viking warriors stepped on land here and the soil soaked the blood baths. So much healing is needed, as well as joyful energy. I'm doing my best. Let me tell you: 

This apartment — rejuvenated — wants to be celebrated

While the smell of paint and varnish has hardly vanished

While many boxes full of life and release still wait to be opened and integrated

The walls still bare

Before my images fingerprint them

But the summer solstice sun and the full moon do call for it now

While the blooming gorse reflects on the walls

While endless skies and seas invite themselves in, to be discovered by experienced eyes still so curious.

So I give thanks to all involved 

And let us bless this place with Joy and Healing

To be my new Home

Summer Solstice  20 June 2013