The Garden… it has so many connotations, from ancient lore, to references of a simpler life… not easier, but simpler in so many ways…

There was a song from my youth written in 1970 by Joni Mitchell and just recently her words keep revisiting me, as her lyrics suggest, ‘we have to get ourselves back to the garden.’

This isn’t just about pottering in a garden or even taking a stroll in the park, rather more, finding a deeply rooted connection with all that is and looking at why we left or as many seem to think based on religious stories, kicked out for being naughty… well right now we are more than naughty and not just in the biblical sense, because the world that sustains us is diminished and creatures who have as much right to be in this proverbial garden as us, are dying out in droves and we are apparently blind!

When did we decide we didn’t need nature?

When did we disconnect from her energy and bounty. When did we believe her resources were infinite and that we could plunder them endlessly.

When did food, created practically in science labs, become more important than the growing of food in a garden or wild crafted gently from the environment in season. Yet, everything, absolutely everything comes from nature. Even man made creations have their foundation in her and she is the only planet we know of where we can survive… so why are we destroying our unique, crazy paradise when there is no Planet B?

I know there are many like-minded people “out there,” I speak to many daily and the regular posts of information on climate conditions means nobody can claim ignorance and yet, governments approved more coal and gas harvesting, more old growth forest pillaging and as a result many creatures have lost their home territories and we feel we have the right to this… the end result may well be that we will lose ours!

Well… that got that off my chest but, that said, does anyone else feel as if there is no return from the horror of the world right now… and I won’t get started on the war, madness and mayhem? If you’re interested, there are some very strange, even frightening predictions from various oracles around the globe, from Peru to Russia… not for the faint hearted.

Meanwhile in our wee, sacred wild place, summer has reached her peak early… things are ripening and ready for harvest early… the weather has been interesting, to say the least… extremes between overnight and mid afternoon have widened considerably and, although summer, we have had early morning temps as low as 1C. While the rest of the state sweltered in temps into the 40C, high humidity and hot nights, our hottest day was about 31C, thankfully.

Our haven is rich in wildlife and birds… they no longer fear me and there are many familiar ‘faces’ among them but also new ones turn up unexpectedly, moving through for a while and then on.

Life continues in a gentle way, following the changing seasons in rhythm with both solar and lunar cycles because within them, everything is revealed… nothing is hidden once we attune.

In the garden and greenhouses…

It’s looking to be an early harvest for produce… everything seems to be coming on at once and work will begin to dry, freeze or preserve surplus, jams are on the agenda for today but that doesn’t mean our daily intake of nourishing foods is limited… we tend to graze through the summer berry patches and our menu is simple with summer fruits, salads and vegetables in season, topped up by what was frozen or preserved last summer/autumn… it’s not about hoarding as some have said about self sufficiency, rather about not having to dash to the shops for things we have no idea of re their origin, treatment (sprays and gassing) or road miles and the feeling of satisfaction, when you know exactly where your produce is coming from.

Planting diverse foods and flowers brings all kinds of wonderful insects to the garden… rarer native bees and a host of ladybugs, working to keep the greenhouse free of white fly and aphids for their free supper. A large, pretty flock of Cape White butterflies arrived for the first time ever in spring, pollinating our fruit trees and the result is more fruit than we’ve ever seen… they moved on and it was then the native bees returned.

In the studio…

To express my hard working but gentle way of life, new creations unfolded through the last months that give a glimpse of something elusive to catch, which is the community of likeminded we live on the edge of.

There are the farmers who’s families have been here for generations, others who are living in semi retirement or who are pursuing, like us, an alternative means of earning a basic living through selling flowers, art, books, textiles etc., and of course, produce at the local markets. (rates still have to be paid and things we don’t/can’t produce purchased).

Each has sought and hopefully found that gentler way.

There are wine makers, cider makers, boutique spirit distilleries, berry farms, garlic growers, all contributing to the local communities and the health of our environment… there are passionate environmentalists among us who are well studied and have professional consultants in their areas of sustainability and we all found our way to this little spot in rural Victoria… I never did believe in coincidences!

So while I craft away at my art and the next book, very slowly taking form, I think of the rat race life once led and commiserate with those caught on the proverbial treadmill. In order to leave said rat race behind, one has to want more in terms of peace and freedom but less in terms of status, things and more, more, more of everything.

We lack for nothing but then it’s not the throw away kind of things… not prestigious, not empty and sterile but full of life, (we party too), community and simplicity…

We found our way back to the garden…

Walk softly… sow the seeds… Awen /|\

Sow the seeds

weave the web in time

Weave, sow, grow

in wisdom

in knowledge

of the life stream

and the soul spark

of intelligence

breathe, 

all one

Awen

Cheers,

Penny

All art, photography and words, copyright’s Penny Reilly

Spring is generally wild up here but there is usually a more balanced advance through the months… this year, some trees were in full leaf before others had even shown buds and in reverse order of the species expected habits… plover had their chicks and only one survived of four and so early for hatching in this cold year.

Balance had gone from the landscape leaving unknown terrain… different images to reflect on and wet, wild weather besides, then a warm surge came and everything exploded into life.

I predict a long spring and a short summer again but with the intense growth nature is exhibiting up here in the hills, La Nina is showing her face again with mega storm cells and temps lowering overnight to autumnal frostiness… the gap between cold and warm becoming more extreme.

Are these the changes we need to observe as the sun gives off massive solar flares, volcanoes stir, the earth rumbles and Betelgeuse, the red supergiant (Alpha Orionis), in the constellation Orion, is looking to go supernova according to Astronomers and the explosion if/when it occurs will be visible in the sky. Will it have impact on us? Who knows! It just gives thought to the possibilities of unexpected change as we navigate our way through a tulmultuous time on our planet.

Perhaps Mother Nature’s shenanigans will bring us back to the core of what’s important to us (and the remaining species still existent) as food security is threatened, prices rise and common item costs go through the existential roof.

So… how do we restore a balance that is beneficial for all, not just for a few wealthy ‘men’ who take control of the world’s finances to the detriment of those who most need a lift just to make ends meet. ‘Men’ who believe in autocracy over democracy, white supremacy and the basic ‘woke’ brigade… and we’re seeing it world-wide, this terrifying shift backwards, as they seek to grab more control of all we think feel and do, particularly as women. Roe vs Wade, the rise, of Domestic Violence and Cohesive Control cases, just a drop in the proverbial ocean. Never mind how women find themselves there, after Mr Right suddenly morphs into Mr ‘I own you,’ the point is why men need to exhibit such control of another free thinking human being in the first place… yes, let’s look there. They see it as a strength when really it exhibits a raw inability to truly feel, a weakness in the need to even think of ownership over another’s will.

So here we are, on this tiny, in the scheme of things, planet, spinning in space and we don’t see our vulnerability? As many have said, there is no Planet B and yet still scientists seek another place for us to inhabit even now… just in case we wreck this one beyond compare, as if the very thought was okay. Can they not see, this jewel is irreplaceable, with its diversity of life forms and resources, used as bargaining chips for untold wealth of the already megabuck wealthy… how can we show that our home is not a commodity and reclaim a simple lifestyle of connection to all.

My greatest solace is my home space close to the edge of the forest, where daily, creatures come and go, making their way up the hill to the farmlands and our wild ponds and creeks. More recently, to specific spots where I place big bowls of water and where we all interact without disturbing one another… simply coming and going, respecting spaces between.

So I wander on fine days to the top of the hill, overlooking the forest and sit beneath an ancient sycamore tree to find some peace of mind… to cool emotions as they skyrocket between anger and deep concern for what may come and what is already a fact across the globe, of death and destruction by ‘men’ seeking control at the cost of their own kin. I re-find, rekindle that balance within me, for it’s the only place it truly exists.

I sit with my back against the ancient sycamore… pressing my face into its soft, mossy covering, I weep and the scent of harebells fills my senses with honey… I’m home…

When the world weighs me down

with its noise and violent attitude

I sneak away to lie on damp earth

to breath a sigh of gratitude

When horror edges in on peripheral vision

and wars brood within the worlds devision

I seek solace in a bee-sung song

a breath of rarified air

a beam of light, a prism

To see the world as whole is to give joy permission

Each of nature’s notes

is strung between realms of mystery

and thankful for my own decisions

to live in beauty

to let the world move on

…the rest, is history

Walk softly… wishing for you to find your balance… Awen /|\

Penny

Time passes… we’re beyond Samhain and Winter Solstice; the year flies by. Through the thinning veil and beyond, galloping towards Imbolc at a mind altering speed.

Already life is pushing up below ground… crocus, belladonna, even daffodil are pushing through the frozen ground… rain has eased the way of their passing from below into the light of extending days and shortening nights.

Calendula flowers opened just post Solstice and crocus are lending a splash of colour, albeit all too short a journey. How bizarre is this. It’s only July.

I have been absent… sorry. Family matters and the loss of two family members, plus a couple of friends, kept me otherwise engaged with the process we all face through our lives… that of grief. All their passings coincided with the sixth anniversary of our eldest daughter. We have decided that May and June may not be admitted into our calendar anymore… I see the sign, ‘no admittance granted!’ I may have to invent some, fill-ins to replace the two rogue months but sadly, they also hold several family birthdays that certainly can’t be ignored.

GRIEF…

Scoured clean

Hollowed out

Grief is never prepared

Loss and despair

Relinquishing control

giving self over

no sense to make

Lives take their course

What is the source

that gives

but with little warning

takes

Time heals

perhaps

but even then

the momentary lapse

takes control

gripping the soul

opening the wound

to the edge

in a forgotten pledge

to never forget

never regret

a soul-walk

a soul-talk

before passing

Surrender

to the light and dark

in equal measure

pain and pleasure

…we are made of both

Surrender

to wellness

that boosts your joy

your immunity

and sickness

that forces you to stop

when you will not

there is no impunity

Surrender

to the world you see

beyond the personal lens

of how you think

life should be

Each believes

their truth is relevant

just as you

ask your gods

to be benevolent

we cannot know

the journey of another

even when

it appears either gentle

or malevolent

Surrender

to the interlude that is you

grow

in the seeded space

of the silent observer

…without agenda

Life continues, the family gathered and we find home in each other’s company and shared grief…

HOME…

Just as we evolve

and grow

a building

thrusts itself aloft

Foundations sunk

into the earth

our feet should seek

this depth

…to strengthen

and yet, to sink in

…to survive

against fire or flood

Warmth

inside a building

…a home

in all the wordly toil

and so

with foundations

in the soil

we hold steady

Heart and hearth as one

…to nurture

…to feed

both brain and belly

To love

to give solace

to those in need

Soaring rooves above

and under eaves

an attic snug

from those same

foundations dug

…grown, to shelter

from the rain

and in that loft

our brain

can assemble anew

safe from those storms

that brew

In this solid structure grew

the plans for family

A building

wrought through work

with ancient timbers, honed

by skin and bone

…a home

Walk softly… let yourself grieve… Awen /|\

Photography, art, and words copyright Penny Reilly, all rights reserved.

Blog, portfolio, books by… pennyreillyartistbeyondthegate.com

and at Facebook and Instagram

https://www.facebook.com/pennybeyondthegate

https://www.instagram.com/penny_at_beyond_the_gate_art

https://www.amazon.com/author/pennyreilly

Hay harvest, my favourite time of year when summer peaks, not that we’ve had much of one, but I for one cherish the feel of an elongated spring that seems to stretch through to winter.

Our farming neighbours take the hay, clearing our fields just in case we have a dry spell when fires are more prevalent and snakes slither through more often… their livestock is in turn, fed on rich grasses and clover in winter.

By Lughnasadh, second harvest on 2nd February, we will organise a locals gathering for our little community. A sharing, great company, good food and wine and a time to say thank you for the abundance we share.

Berries will be harvest ready in batches… they pair well with local meats and cheeses. Fresh tomatoes will be coming on too, beetroots pickled and pesto blended, caramelised spring onion dip created, all made to smother on crusty bread… nothing fancy, just fresh, home produce…

There’s a magic and mystery to the time of year as things grow and pull back, release and renew only to release again… it’s not always obvious unless you live as closely as we do to the land and the cycles. As I sit writing, there’s a scent drifting in the windows of earth, wet grass, roses, lavender and sage flowers… bees are busy; hens are wandering through the orchard and we have a respite for a few hours from the rumbling thunder and accompanying wind and rain, still heard in the distance.

Still, I’ve managed to plant more lettuce and marigolds, harvest onion, coriander and parsnip seeds for another cycle of growing… meanwhile, David has put together another hencoop for the new girls when they come on to lay.

Nothing much going on here 😀

Early this morning there was a mizzly-drizzle, covering everything and reducing visibility to zero but it steamed off leaving the exquisite scent behind of oak moss.

We often have four seasons in one day!

ENDLESS DREAMS

In the mists of time
where all made sense of the rhyme
there are sounds that stream
like an endless dream
…passing in notes sublime
Who were they who walked the Old Way
to where did they stray
when they left that day
You can hear them still
put your ear to the hill
…you’ll hear the wild music they play
Rhythms grow
the trees dance and blow
in an unseen wind off the heath
Drums rumble
summoning from beneath
The earth splits wide
pouring out the Fae ride
…their songs they do bequeath
Walk softly, they sing
let joy your notes bring
to a world that is cold
…a world grown old
Let go your fears
treasure passing years
…let go, no need to cling
Joy will return,
Bellies fed, passions burn
as their music slowly returns
Let your feet tap and glide
while their gentle notes slide
Fill to the brim
…your soul that yearns

Wild, my environment… and the closer I grow in understanding and awareness through its changing face…

…with warm wishes and blessings for the holiday season and beyond,

Penny