The GANG garden: Death, Life, Death, Life . . .

Uuuuuh. I just discovered that at the tip of a single branch of the supposedly dead mimosa tree, there are — count ’em — five little shoots of green . . .

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I had just gone over to my neighbors’ house. They wondered why we cut down the tree. “Because it was dead.”

Armen: “But it’s always late. Every year Aggie thinks it’s dead and I tell her it’s just late.”

“Well,” I say, “I know. But it is truly dead this year. Hard winter. The mimosa in back of us is dead, too. They’re dead all over town.”

Aggie: “Are you sure it’s dead?”

Then I went back home, threading my way past the mimosa lying in the front yard. That’s when . . . “uhhhhhh.”

Sick to my stomach, puppy Shadow and I went for our walk. Came back home and told Rebecca. She, of course, looked utterly stunned. Walked over to see the little green shoots. There they were. Said: “It makes me feel sick to my stomach.”

We walked over to check the mimosa in the back yard of the house in back of us. No signs of life, at least from our vantage point. This tree is very tall. The little green shoots in our tree were coming out of the tip of one branch. I wondered. Did the green shoots come after the tree was cut down, one tiny bit of life squeezing out of death?

On the way back from the house in back, we stopped to see the apple tree, which IS bearing apples, after Rebecca pruned it back this spring and got more light into it.

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The Garden Tower is also doing fine.

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The two beds we made and planted along the fence line yesterday are doing fine (thanks to the grass mulch gifted by that neighbor) after the huge, wondrous, and, to puppy Shadow, TERRIFYING thunder and lightning rain storm at around midnight.

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You can’t see it yet, but we planted malabar spinach, an edible, mucilaginous trailing vine, extremely hardy and shiny beautiful, to grow on the fenceline.

Rebecca tried to fix the stuck chain saw (the murder weapon for the mimosa), and failed. I’ll take it to son Colin today when I see him for lunch.

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Meanwhile, it’s about time to drag out the chipper . . .

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We’re going to keep an eye on that mimosa out back. And I’m going to alert Colin NOT to cut down their two giant mimosa trees just yet.

If we’re very very lucky, the stump in the front yard will regenerate . . .

Never think you can outwit or outguess Nature. She always bats last. I bow to her superior wisdom and ask that, some day, my own tiny living form will fully fuse with her mysterious, endless, presence.

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2 Responses to The GANG garden: Death, Life, Death, Life . . .

  1. Pamela says:

    When we, being somewhat foolish humans and aliens to this place, act in fear and not patience and love, and attempt to destroy a facet of nature due to our ignorance, our lack of understanding; recognize our inappropriateness, say we are sorry, ask for and receive forgiveness, and learn from our mistakes, we have done all that She asks.

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