I don't want to dwell on the damage to the garden caused by Storm Hannah, so I will tell you that I have freshly potted the uprooted fir tree and pretty much cleared away all the damaged plants, and although this leaves some peculiar gaps, it looks a lot better out there for a tidy up and removal of all the blackened and burned foliage.
I am happy to say that, despite losing foliage, buds that were just starting to emerge seem unscathed, and this morning the apple tree is turning quite pink with bloom! Time will tell, but I am very hopeful now. It might not look as good as I had hoped, but plants can recover quickly; all is not lost.
I wrote a short, reactionary piece of prose after Storm Hannah rampaged through and calm returned; I then found a suitable photo to accompany it.
My fellow blogger and online friend Martha Ellen {whose very lovely photos and words you can find here} said, when she read the shortened version on Twitter, that it sounded like a metaphor for life. She's correct, of course, although I didn't originally consider it as such as I wrote it. I have taken her words to title this entry.
So, this is what I wrote:
In the heart of the storm the wild west wind hollers and howls; the sea rages; it roils and it boils; it hisses and spits; a bubbling cauldron of confused chaos and mayhem. Ominous black clouds roll in from the horizon robbing the day of it's light; you are battered; you are pitched and tossed at every turn; you are flotsam dragged wherever the wuthering winds and the treacherous tides take you. You bend to the will of the storm and survive. Slowly, surely, the storm rolls on, leaving you behind, and with unwavering certainty stillness returns; all is calm; all is well; and you sail on into calm water, in perfect peace and harmony, across a clear blue sea under a clear blue sky.
and this is the photo, taken a few years ago on a very early morning walk as the sun rose gently on a warm summer morning; all was peaceful and the blue ocean was millpond calm as it reached to seamlessly join as one with the cloudless blue sky above.
Until next time ~~~
Deborah xo
Oh Dear Deb, I'm so glad you have cleaned up and noticed hopeful signs in your garden.
ReplyDeleteI've mentioned to you previously how much I enjoy your writing. You always touch me with your words. Your gift is not unnoticed by me. I love the calm sea photograph! It truly conveys feelings... It is perfect for your beautiful words. xoxo
Thank you so much for your kind words. They mean so much. I think we all know the garden will recover in time. xoxo
DeleteBeautifully poignant. We know that storm and how it rages, but we are still here, firmly rooted and knowing we are able to weather another should it come our way.
ReplyDeleteThank you, and I hope Storm Hannah was spent by the time she reached you!
DeleteSo glad your garden looks a little better after the clear up and you have some blossom appearing.
ReplyDeleteI so love your poignant beautiful words - in fact, am going to write them down to remind me that there is always light at the end of the tunnel. The photo is so calming too :)
Thank you, and oh, please do copy them down. They didn't start off to mean as how they turned out, but some days things go that way. I think I need to copy them out too!
DeletePlants are often far more resilient than we think. In our school grounds someone trampled on a row of conifers. I bound each broken stem and all recovered which was amazing in light of the damage inflicted.
ReplyDeleteNature will recover, of that I am certain.
DeleteYes, your words describe how Life can be, so very well. Your talent for prose is amazing. And your photos spectacular. I am thrilled to have such a talented friend! Maybe you will rub off on me. lol
ReplyDeleteI will look forward to seeing how your garden rebounds after this storm.
Thank you. Rubbing away! lol. xo
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