My garden has always been a sacred space to me.. I find it to be a very liminal place and you will most days find me puttering about talking to the plantlings. I often meditate or do ritual here.. leaving offerings frequently for the garden spirits. Probably most sacred to me are the evenings spent having dinner and conversation, sometimes with friends but most likely just the husband plus kittahs. It is my most important ritual.
Being an animist, I am very involved with everything that blesses my garden.. we are all connected and often my garden is a reflection of that. I promise you, if I am a mess, you will see it in the sprawling unkempt just as you will see the order of when all things are well. It protects and nourishes not only the body but my soul as well.. I am certain any gardener will tell you such.
My main task for this year was to learn how to grow some of my own food. There’s a certain feeling of accomplishment in eating something you’ve grown yourself. As I am just learning, and haphazardly at best, that shows quite glaringly in the overgrown mishmash of plants I can barely move around.. plenty of time to sort this later I think. Right now is the time to put my feet up, pour a glass of wine, and watch the cats swat at everything.