Hollow Sky

Hollow Sky

Hollow Sky

 

The hills make an oculus down here in the hollow. We look up through it like a kaleidoscope. In winter the twigs are etched black against the moonlight.

Though we lack the greater horizons of ridges or the shore,  the tree tips focus with their own special filigree as the planets and constellations rise from the east and make their way across the southern expanse. The Gemini stare and the great square of Pegasus fills the empty dome above the garden to the west.

Full moon in hollow

Full moon in the hollow

The full moon rose in a clear sky last night for the first time this year and Jupiter, the Great Star, danced around it. I stayed up late enough to see Orion “sloping slowly in the west” as it did for Tennyson at “Locksley Hall”. Standing on the little balcony off the upper bedroom I hear the creek running as strong as it did when I first came out here so long ago. Light glints as it flashes along.

As we grow old along with our landscape, the bones of it become more important than the more intensive aspirations of youth. At this point, I’d rather sit on a bench in front of the great beech and watch the leaves unfurl or stroll through the meadow along the creek than fuss with flower borders and sowing greens on a 2 week schedule.

The vegetable garden is virtually abandoned and I’m focusing more on tying the climbing roses and maybe adding a Clematis montana ‘Rubens’ in the corner than a spring seed order. Am I old enough to admit that I don’t enjoy the grubby grind of working a vegetable garden?

What really draws me now to the garden is cleaning out the winter beds with my trusty sling blade that Johnny keeps so sharp -using the old reliable Felco folding saw to prune the ancient vitex to reveal its oriental habit and re-laying the rock border to make room for new lilac sprouts from a resurgent ‘Mr. Lincoln’. We transplanted him across from lanky white-flowered ‘Miss Wilmot’ last year to give him more sun and he seems to be settling in.

The garden progresses with the new year and drags the gardener along with it.

 

This entry was posted in Despatches from the Hollow. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.