In the Old Orchard

In The Old Orchard: Putting In The Seed

A pot of oregano and my seasonal candle choice for late spring, early summer, Garden Herbs. I love to have seasonal scents for my family to enjoy.

The sun rises early now. I awake with daylight pouring between the wooden slats of our window blinds. My dog lays on the ground by my side of the bed and waits patiently for me to sit up. I walk quietly past my kids rooms. With school days over for a few months, the diligent and busy early mornings are now quiet and still as teenagers sleep in just a while longer. My chocolate lab, Charlie Joy Buttercup, shakes her body and the clinking of her dog tag is the only noise in the house. I let her outside onto the kitchen patio and start the espresso machine. I light my candle, gather my books and pens, and reaching for the softest blanket, I set my steaming hot black coffee on the side table and continue in my Bible reading plan. I just finished Leviticus. Its beautiful, its mysterious, its strange to the modern man or woman, and yet it feeds me somehow. I don’t claim to understand every passage. But the more I read it, the more I need to read it. 

Marilla, Henrietta, Poppy & Daisy

I like to see my chickens in their coop from my chair and watch from afar through our bear den windows. There is one apple tree on our property, perhaps leftover from an old orchard of another time and era as most of the properties around us were at one time orchards. I pruned some branches the other day as I couldn’t quite see as much of the coop as I wanted. I was startled to find many little green apples forming on the branches! Most eventually will fall to the ground from the weight, then we throw those to the chickens. But many are salvageable for apple sauce and pies. 

I close my Bible and put on my shoes. Its time to check out what Marilla, Henrietta, Poppy, and Daisy are up to. Charlie-girl comes with me, most of the time. As soon as I come round the side of the house, the hens often see me and run to their chicken gate. I dodge the sprinklers that are still on, and say good morning to my little ladies. I check their food and water levels, collect the eggs, check the perimeter to make sure no small animals are digging holes to get into the chicken run. I place rocks to block the holes that have been dug. Then I grab some grass or their favorite weeds and throw them in the run. I sing the Doxology as they “eye” me with curiosity, and off I go to water the garden. 

Last year, I dug up a square section of grass about 8 feet by 10 feet, and created a blueberry patch with a couple of old barrel planters I had found on the property five years ago. My goal is to establish blueberry bushes for my future grandchildren to enjoy when they come to visit! We can gather the blueberries together for a sweet treat and then read the picture book, Blueberries for Sal. 

My lavender bush is mighty this year! It is such a glorious bush! I also planted a hibiscus plant and a hellebore plant from a friend. My fairy garden is thriving with Lamb’s Ear seeds from a friend at church, prairie lilies which are a must-have for anywhere I live, a very meaningful plant to me. Chrysanthemum and a dahlia also adorn my fairy garden. Florence, our tooth fairy, has now retired from her duties and sits silently pensive among the flowers towering above her. 

Onto the garden boxes where a strawberry patch is in full swing with tendrils extending to multiply its delicious sweet goodness! One day, it will be a thriving box of only strawberries, but until then there is space, so this year I have paired the berries with jalapenos, onions, and marigolds. Raspberries are in another box, and though it will one day be solely a raspberry box, again, it still has room, so in go the tomato plants from a friend at church, volunteer mint is returning, and again some onion seeds to fill up the space. Lord willing, it will be crowded with food later this summer. I can’t wait to share a photo here of the abundant garden I’m envisioning. I’ve also planted cucumber, pumpkin, winter squash, dahlias, climatis, and of course, sunflowers. 

On Sunday, the heat of summer arrived as we were also hosting an evangelism class and meal together for our church. There was no wind this time, so we set out the picnic table, the canopy, the chairs, all under the shade of the apple tree. The shadow lengthened giving relief from the sun, and we gathered with members of our church to discuss the very important work of welcoming others into our church community, to share with them the most important message of all, and to grow in our ability to share well our hope in Christ. 

Though we have only one apple tree, and though I’m still trying to figure out how to care for it each year, it has its own stories and memories throughout its lifetime. How old is it, I wonder? How many birds and cats and children have come to seek shelter or a hide-and-seek place to play in its branches? How many piñatas have we strung up for birthday parties in the past 5 years? How many pies have been made? Who are the families who have worked hard to prune it, harvest from it, and find shade on hot summer days?

Well, this is the first post in a new series of blog posts, In The Old Orchard, where I share about my gardening journey and perhaps other little tidbits of life as I plant, cultivate, harvest, and delight in my garden. To leave you, I will offer a bit of inspiration, a garden poem by Edward J. O’Brien:

The Whisper of the Earth
by Edward J. O’Brien

In the misty hollow, shyly greening branches
Soften to the south wind, bending to the rain.
From the moistened earthland flutter little whispers,
Breathing hidden beauty, innocent of stain.
Little Plucking fingers tremble through the grasses,
Little silent voices sigh the dawn of spring,
Little burning earth-flames break the awful stillness,
Little crying wind-sounds come before the King.
Powers, dominations urge the budding of the crocus,
Cherubim are singing in the moist cool stone,
Seraphim are calling through the channels of the lily,
God has heard the earth-cry and journeys to His throne.
— Favorite Poems for the Garden