Wednesday, March 27, 2013

To everything there is a season.


The Paschal Moon

Do not abandon yourselves to despair. We are the Easter people and hallelujah is our song.”
                                              Pope John Paul II

I wish you could have watched the setting of the Paschal moon with me this morning. As full and round as any harvest moon I've ever seen, it seemed to hang in place on the western skyline far longer than normal. The light so bright the city lights paled by comparison. And now the sun, jealous of moon's surpassing beauty, is rising in a huffy mood.

Easter is early this year. The timing, set by the first Council of Nicaea in 325, and designed to correspond both to the Spring Equinox and the Hebrew Passover, must fall between March 22 and April 25, by our western calendar. I have thought a lot about my grandmother's prohibition against planting before Easter—we've had several nights of hard-freeze. Mama was right about many things, and she knew from birth what made sense when it came to soil and seeds and growing. Some of my fondest childhood memories come from summer days spent in her garden. I see her in my mind's eye squatting, her wide straw hat barely visible between green stalks of tasseling corn, pulling weeds, loosening soil, loving every green leaf like her own child.

Such a mystery, gardening. How some folks can throw a seed at the hard earth and grow anything, while others tend it, fertilize like crazy, do everything exactly by the book, yet nothing grows. Some call it a green-thumb, but I think it has to do with love. Love of dirt, of its smell, its texture, and love of the creative process—from impossibly small brown seed, to tiny green shoot, to robust plant, to round ripe fruit. It truly is miraculous.

I hope that you are planning to grow something green this year. Even if you live in a city surrounded by skyscrapers, you can find a sunny window and grow an herb garden. Keeping in touch with the natural world, putting our hands in the dirt, connects us to ourselves in a very particular way. Connects us also to the miracle of life and to the hallelujah song of Spring.

                                                  In the spirit,
                                                     Jane

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