I have harvested and dried the garlic from my
garden, and it is ready to add flavor to soups and stews well into the winter.
As I dug it up in the late summer warmth, that work
felt like a parable – a parable of resurrection and of my life these past 18
months.
I planted the garlic last fall, and after the
first frost, I will plant next year’s crop.
The garlic I harvested was buried in the earth and soon covered with
deep now. All through the long cold snowy
winter (and it was very long and very cold and very snowy…) the tiny bulbs were
hidden and silent, but still with growth in them.
That time of stress is essential to the later
growth. In the spring, the garlic comes up
and puts out scapes, curly stems with garlic flowers on them. The scapes need to be cut back, because if
all the energy of the bulb goes into the flower, the roots do not grow as large
and strong.
I have not written here for a long time. It has been my own time of silence and maybe,
too, of growth. And it has been a time of cutting back – literally and
figuratively. I’ve had some surgery,
some months of chemo and radiation, the kind of stress that brings healing and
new growth.
Like the garlic ready for the stew, like the one
hoping to continue contributing some flavor to the stew of daily life, it is
all about practicing resurrection, which is preceded by being willing to die a
little, be hidden and silent, endure some stress.
One of my very favorite poems has these lines:
Put your faith in the two inches of humus
that will build under the trees
every thousand years.
Listen to carrion – put your ear
close, and hear the faint chattering
of the songs that are to come.
Expect the end of the world. Laugh.
Laughter is immeasurable. Be joyful
though
you have considered all the facts.
…..
Practice
resurrection.
(from
Manifesto:
The Mad Farmer Liberation Front from
The Country of Marriage,
copyright ©
1973 by Wendell Berry, Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, Inc.)
And that is what I am doing: practicing resurrection. Me and the garlic!
No comments:
Post a Comment