Motivational Fig

This year I have a motivational word by which I want to define my year: ‘Growth’. Emotional growth – sure. Knowledge growth; definitely. However, the biggest part of my life in which I want to experience growth is my garden. Growing things, being outside & teaching my kids how to grow food & work together to build something is one of the reasons we moved a bit further out in the country two years ago.

There is freedom here, not complete freedom, but space & quiet that we didn’t have before. It has helped clear my mind & my heart of a lot of things that were holding me back in my growth. I think I have had a peek into the life I have always wanted — but it will take growth.

I have not published a blog since September 2016. A lot has happened in that space. Most importantly, we met our final family member, the beautiful Violet. I plan to add a few blogs that will fill in that time so life makes sense, but I might not get a chance. In any event, the last year has certainly been challenging. I not only met my daughter but my Son turned 2. He is a running, yelling, conversing, building machine & keeping me on my toes. Unfortunately, I also lost two of my best friends this year quite unexpectedly. The loss of those two souls in my life has left a silent hole in my heart. I have many unanswered questions. I miss them daily, hourly, minutely. I wish they were here to play with my kids & chat about our lives. There is so much I could say that trying to find the words leaves me exhausted.

In any case, to mark the beginning of 2018 growth we planted a healthy green Fig tree in our back yard. He was a gift to me from a friend (RG) & has been lovingly tended to since he was a seedling. He has been ready to find a permanent place in our yard for a little while but today seemed like the right time. It will be interesting to see how his growth matches my own. The soil here is mostly clay so it will be a challenge to keep him healthy but what’s growth without challenge?

Jack & our newly planted Fig Tree

Beautiful Bees

Such a beautiful day to go in search of bees.

©Violet Ashes 2016

Filtered In Winter

Today is the first of a precious few winter days without rain & the first time I have had to get out into my garden & explore. It is a different place in the winter – the plants either go dormant or thrive. There are hues of brown & purple that are not visible in other months.

I find the garden to be one of the only places I can go to just be where I do not have to think. My mind clears & I lose hours in a sunny afternoon pottering about. Without the garden I would be lost. Sometimes it is not enough to look out from my kitchen window; I was pleased to get out in the sunlight today & took my camera with me.

I have been experimenting with coloured & macro lens filters – it is much more difficult than I imagined. There is no ‘point & shoot’ scenario – it takes time & patience; both of which I find sparse at the moment. The first of our winter blooms came out of hiding with the unseasonable sun – I hope there will be more in the days to come.

Strawberry Bloom – July 2014 © Violet Ashes 2014

Violet – July 2014 © Violet Ashes 2014

Violet Succulent – July 2014 © Violet Ashes 2014

Tadpoles

I have known Violet for a very, very long time. Some might say, I have always known her. She will always be a part of my life, whether I ever physically meet her, or not.
 
There are times, like now, when the house is quiet & there is nothing to do that I can almost hear her, calling me from the backyard pond, covered in mud, ankle-deep in tadpoles with a daisy chain in her hair… “Mum…!”

Lousy Engineer

Sometimes I wake up not knowing where I am, or who I am. This morning was just like that. Not an out of body experience but the kind of shady-eyed, heart-racing, full-bladder wakeup where you only have one thing on your mind. & once you’ve visited the toilet you look in the mirror as the cold water runs over your hands & you wonder who the hell you are looking at.
“Is that me? Are those my mascara stains?”

YES.

Waking up this week could take forever.

Feels like my body is rejecting me. My brain & heart are in different places & I swear I can feel the spring run through my blood redesigning my DNA. It is never satisfied. Bring back the winter. I approve of the rain & the cold. The long sleeves & the late mornings. The blue dawn & the days I forget my umbrella & refuse to run.

By the end of this week spring will have taken full hold of September & there will be beauty everywhere. Greens, pinks, blues – flowers & faces. I can’t help but let it absorb me but I don’t really approve.

I am not as cruel as you think I am, or as angry.

He works hard & the harder he works, the more often I am alone. The harder he works the more I appreciate him, but the harder he works the less I see of him to appreciate.

It is almost 3pm & the day has been swallowed – I cannot remember what I have done other than write & think & drink cranberry juice. My bladder is screaming at me, I have to go & each time I lose my train of thought & every time I see that girl in the mirror again. I do not know who she is but I would like to peel her face off & build a new one. She is not who I wanted her to be & I cannot figure out how to map my way to who she should have been.

Ashes ©Jan Marie 1986

Tea With Faeries

Riot Grrrl sent me this pin today & instantly my mind flew back to my childhood. Of many hours spent in my Grandma’s garden chasing faeries. Rioty, of course, knows this as we have spent time chasing faeries together – you know a girl will be a friend forever if she will chase faeries with you. It makes perfect sense to me even as an adult.
 
 The photo was taken in a garden on Woodside road in a town called Chester in the UK. Upon reading this I knew the photo was special, for reasons of my own.Coincidences are everywhere at the moment.

It is a beautiful sunny day today & the air is just moving enough to knock the white & pink petals from the almond trees onto the ground. It looks like a blanket of snow – but the warmth that makes my skin tingle tells me it is not winter. As I spent time cutting back the nearly flowering Jasmine on our front hedge I remembered all the gardens I have spent time in, first as a child & as an adult. I have never been far away from one & they are still my favourite places.
 
I found this photo of me as a kid in our garden; the sun on my hair is just like today & my smile has not changed. It was taken by my Aunty JB & it looks like I was looking to host a very big tea party – I remember that tea kettle – it spent many years on my arm while I chased faeries & drank tea with Grandma.

There Is Always Light

It is raining here again & I love the sound of it. It is so peaceful & makes the whole house so dim & smoky but not pitch black, just a comfortable dark. Like being underwater in the Murray River. If you look up, there is always light.
 
 I think about Harry in his grave, the small streams of water sliding over the freshly turned earth. A glistening makeshift headstone.
 
 My niece & nephew came to pay respects last night. Maximus says,
   ‘I’m sorry you died Harry’ as he bends down, rubbing the stone that marks his grave.
 My sister says to Bella,
   ‘At least he’s not in pain now & he can sleep.’
 Bella stops in her tracks, puts her hands on her hips, looks up at her Mum & says,
   ‘He’s not sleeping! He’s dead!’
 
 She is so right & the statement made me smile at her 5 year old wisdom. What a mind that kid is going to have. I am so proud.

Cycle

I cannot explain my close attachment to the Blue Tongued Lizard that has lived in our garden for 3 years but he is important to me nonetheless. I found him today bent over in the garden, looking not-quite-right. It is only 10 degrees here today & far too cold for a lizard to be trying to sunbake. I noticed he has been coming out to bake for a few weeks now, in winter, & thought it odd. I picked him up & gave him a bit of a rub to warm him up, his belly stirred but his eyes did not open. It did not feel right to leave him lying out there to get picked off by a cat or a bird, so I picked him up & took him inside. I made him a makeshift home in my nephew’s toy box with some rocks & dirt from outside & put on a strong lamp to help warm him up a bit.
 
He did stir some more once he warmed up a little. I added a lid of water & some cherry tomatoes which were always a treat for the lizards that Leo raised when we were growing up. He has not touched either one. I spoke to Leo who said to drip some water in his mouth, if he was thirsty he would react – which he did.
 
He keeps doing these deep sighs from inside, curling up a little & then he flattens himself a bit to get more warmth. The sighs hit me in the chest every time, like a series of last breaths. I hold my own breath each time, I am quiet & hopeful that he will keep going.
 
I wish there was more I could do.
 
He has not moved for an hour now & I am too afraid to put my hands in, in case he has died. I am going to wait for Leo to get here & take a look at him. I do not think the news will be good.
 
Corsmor & I live in a little wilderness haven here & enjoy watching all the wild creatures come & go as they please. They are remarkable & motivating. Life is inexplicably going on around us. I have watched Sparrows swarm over the bread crumbs Corsmor throws to them, Black Birds couple up, build nests & eggs hatch into the quickest growing babies I have ever seen. I have awoken to the sounds of Kookaburra’s singing in our Jacaranda tree & fallen asleep to the sound of frogs in our back yard pond. What I failed to realise is that death is going on all around us at the same time. It is taking those beautiful things away from us. A cycle I had never really thought about.  & here I am sitting next to it, with a glimmer of hope & hopelessness all at once. There is nothing I can do but wait.

Garden Friends

Arrived home today to find our little friend Harry Potter (so named as he was born under a pot) basking in the sun on our doorstep. It’s good to have friends 🙂

Nothing Else Matters

I walked out into the kitchen & told Corsmor we are pregnant this morning. It is very, very early but it was a certain positive. He held me tight & his happiness filled me with hope.

We took a short walk in the forest & went blackberry picking. As Corsmor ate handfuls of berries, his hands stained burgundy, he nicknamed our baby ‘Pip’.

This news we have waited for does not feel real – but I am filled with joy & it does not leave my mind for a minute.

I am tired & calm & it is the end of a very surreal day.

I feel as if we are beginning something. Something that is truly ours is happening. It is life.

So close no matter how far
Couldn’t be much more from the heart
Forever trusting who we are
And nothing else matters
 
Never opened myself this way
Life is ours, we live it our way
All these words I don’t just say
And nothing else matters
 
Trust I seek and I find in you
Every day for us something new
Open mind for a different view
And nothing else matters
 
Never cared for what they do
Never cared for what they know
But I know

Wood Rainbow

This form of eucalyptus tree grows in Maui, Australia rainforests where the bark peels back to reveal a gorgeous range of colours. It’s absolutely real & so beautiful, there are truly some unusual & surprising things in nature.

Carnage

Overseeing a garden is a strange business. This summer so many friends have withered, even those that seemed the strongest & the healthiest were stricken with the unrelenting heat of summer. Brought smiles to my eyes when I saw Jac standing tall & blooming her way through December though. She can always be depended upon. Tall & strong.
 
Next year such carnage in the garden will not be tolerated. I will be prepared.

Mood: Melancholy

 

Planet of Sparrows

Whispers told me Violet was not well today. What I found when I got to her was not what I expected. What I found was her in the garden with one hand in a bird bath & the other holding a dead sparrow… I do not think the bird bath went as Violet had planned. I am sure the bird fought the good fight, which is exactly why Violet had to fish it out; she has busy trying to do the same. I hope it all plays out for her though & she fairs better than that soaked & silent sparrow. Some days I have my doubts.
 
Violet spotted me slink through the gate to watch her.
    ‘Hey – Merry Fucking Xmas” she quipped.
    “Yeah – looks like it” I replied
    “Can you imagine having wings & ending up here?” Violet chirped at me
 
Final result of the bird bath is an empty clay bowl on a stand & a fresh mound in the ground between the Jacaranda & the Jasmine. Not far from the compost & not much different really either.
   “One day” Violet mumbled,
    “I hope there’s someone there to find me & bury me between the trees & beneath the sun.”
 
I figured it was sort of thrown out there for me to hear but I did not reply. What do you say to that? I am sure she knows what she is talking about, she plans ahead this girl. It seems all pretty black & white to me the whole life & death thing. You should just live until you can’t anymore. Violet assures me that is all she is trying to do. It is the fact she has to try that I struggle with.
 
We sat by the disturbed ground between the trees & Violet mentioned she had seen Digger & Peachy a few days ago. They had walked in while she was having coffee somewhere insignificant (bad coffee, though she did mention…) How estranged. Clear she has so much unsaid that will remain that way forever. The words are always so full of double meanings that I think she loses herself in them & in the end she is never sure what was said at all. Defence mechanism?
 
What in the world do you do when that one & only describes life as better without you? That it is easier, quieter, nicer, less of a struggle. Even though you are sure they enjoyed every small moment of that struggle for years? Those small moments where people are created & destroyed; what could there be left to say? I asked Violet & she could not answer but I know she has a head full of things she wants to get out, most of which are questions (what’s new?)
 
Questions, always questions with Violet – it would be so much quieter around here if she just listened in the first place. She is so afraid that there is something someone is not telling her like a joke of which she has been left out. She is terrified she is the joke & they are all laughing behind her back. They are not & there is no telling her that, whether she questions it or not.
 
Digger sure did shovel out a hole in her – enough to fit a planet of dead sparrows & water all the same. She desperately tries to fill it in each day. There is blame on both sides of course – but my feet are firmly planted here between the Jacaranda & the Jasmine – I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

Comment:
Troyski:

G’day April, love the blog, very creative in an emotionally expressive way. Maybe I read it back to front (that would be impressive lol), but I picked up on some grief & loss, some soul searching and a hint of self doubt/frustration. Or I’m just reading too deeply into your creative writing. I’m rambling, forgive me. Look after yourself.
Always,
Troy xxxooo

Jac’s Mess

Violet is hiding in a winter snap at the moment. That is to say, I am getting the cold shoulder so I choose to assume she has just got the air-conditioning up too high & thinks it is winter…..
 
I am not at all envious of the shit she has going on at the moment. The fake smiles were beginning to make me sick until they stopped altogether. Now I get this broken mirror image of a girl I used to know. Only a few days ago we were chit chatting about the Jacaranda’s out in bloom this November. You never even know just how many of them there are until November comes running. What a strange tree to be blooming in the summer rather than the spring. Violet’s local streets are carpeted with purple, an amazing glow that even she has to stop & appreciate despite her treacherous state of mind.
   “Soon it’ll just be a dry brown mess I have to sweep up” she quips.
 
Violet has a baby Jacaranda in her back yard. Its branches are limping with the weight of the bright purple flowers. So many of them for what appears to be nothing more than a stick of a tree. That makes no sense to me but Violet is unperturbed;
   “How else do you have something as special & complicated as a summer flower without the comfort of a branch to hold it up?” she asks
   “Everyone needs a branch even if it is just a small one.”
I get frustrated with her talking in circles & scowl at her. Violet shrugs & continues,
   “Cut it down if you’re so worried about the branches. But no one worries about them you know. The supports & the foundations, or who’s going to clean up the mess. All they worry about is how beautiful the flower is when it blooms”
I wanted to smack her & I very nearly cut the flowering Jacaranda down until I realised I would only be cutting off my own limbs & then, what use would I be to Violet?

Still

I sat on the balcony tonight cutting open the skin around my ankles. I rested them up on the balcony railing & laid back in my chair, letting the blood drip down to the ground below. Back into the earth where it belongs.
 
I have tried to take photos of the sparrows flitting through the air catching mosquitos. They know I am there even though I do not make a sound. I catch a thought of you, wondering what kind of sounds you’re making right now. Whether you’re alone, or with friends, with a lover? Maybe you’re breathlessly making love out in the open like I am imagining with you right now. Maybe you’re sleeping or working. I don’t know where you are.
 
Having not heard from you in a while I figure there must be a new woman on the scene. Yes, that is the first thing that comes to mind… You rarely talk about women. The occasional mention of someone from the past… Ringa… She seems to come up the most. Maybe I am like her? Maybe not.
 
I look down at the ankles that keep me walking further from you.
 
The blood drips still…

Faery Garden

I have an essay due tomorrow but needed to get my brain together.

 
I Stood Against The Window
 
I stood against the window
And looked between the bars.
And there were strings of fairies
Hanging from the stars;
Everywhere and everywhere,
In shining, swinging chains;
The air was full and shimmering,
Like sunlight when it rains.
 
They kept on swinging, swinging,
They flung themselves so high
They caught upon the pointed moon
And hung across the sky.
And when I woke in mooning,
There still were crowds and crowds
In beautiful bright bunches
All sleeping in the clouds.

This poem is by Rose Fyleman from ‘Fairies & Chimneys’. I used to get lost in the land of fairies a girl. I still think of them as I walk around my garden at home & hope they will come out of hiding. They must still be there – & I still believe. I like to think of them as protection. I think Ric has found them & that’s why he loves it so much in the fern garden. When the sprinklers go on he sits in there for hours. He comes out shivering but he seems to love it. I think he thinks it is rain because he always runs around in that too.

Picture from Lady Cottington’s Pressed Fairy Book – Brian Froud