Earth

The cosmos was once thought to be made up of only 4 elements; earth, air, water, and fire. In my early adult years I had a strong affinity toward fire. Perhaps it was just the leftovers of my teenage angst and college rebellion. The baby years were definitely a time of water for me. But the last few years I have felt my spirit mellow into earth. I am one of those people who has an internal clock that is in total sync with the rising and setting of the sun. I have no need of an alarm clock and only use one if I have an appointment that is completely out of the ordinary. I feel sorry for people who have to be jarred out of their sleep by obnoxious noises.

So here we are in the first day of Daylight Savings Time. Winter is bidding adieu and Spring is taking her stand. This is the time of year when I feel the pull to earth the strongest. The increase in light and drying of the land practically drags me into nurseries and out to the back yard. I try to keep up with my weeds throughout the year but it is in March that it actually brings me joy to pull as many as I possibly can. I clear the path reaching out and bringing back handfuls of green stems and yellow blossoms. I am like a farmer who cultivates in great swaths of his field. I move across the yard section by section sometimes vertically and sometimes horizontally, leaving emptiness in my wake. I love the sight of the brown black earth that lies beneath. It is the blank canvas that will bring forth the unknown summer blooms and vegetables. I'm not one of those people who insists on garden gloves. They're nice when I think about putting them on but I actually love the feel of dirt inside my fingernails. I have often thought it is because I work in a job where it is difficult to see what you accomplished in the day to day scheme of things. But dirt in your nails and clear garden paths make it very clear. You can stand back and admire that and say, "Look what I did today." When I am in the dirt I lose all concerns or worries for the future. I feel completely grounded and know that I am exactly where I am supposed to be. I am simply there accepting what is and knowing what can never be. Tulips and daffodils only bloom in the spring, tomatoes and zucchini have to wait for their time in summer. I remember once again the importance of allowing the universe to be in charge. As the sun travels across the sky I am being pulled again. I am hesitant to stop my gardening. I want to hold on to the feelings of harmony that have once again returned as I move toward spring. But I know I have a school bag full of papers waiting for me. I promise myself to find time during the week to return to the garden. This is what that mortgage is all about and why I live in a little green house with a big back yard.