IT MIGHT BE SPRING SOON

 

 Sometimes we need a break from everything, absolutely everything.  One thing we always need a break from is the quest for perfection.  Getting older helps with that; there's not a single thing I can do perfectly anymore.  My garden is not perfect and never will be.  Just the other day the top of a large ash tree hit the ground, blocking my "fitness" trail (i.e. a path of moss I tend lovingly).  I will have to call the tree service for their regular post-winter clean-up.  I want them to start at the road and work their way back, chipping the downed trees and branches--We live in the woods. This will take at least a half day and cost my winter savings.  

The daffodils and early blue hyacinth are pushing up.  I picked a few daffs today for my shelfie.  And the Lenten roses are lush.  I've sprayed the hyacinth and nandina with Deer Off to deter the still-hungry deer.  I've put out pansies and sprayed them too.  They will weather the few frosts still to come in North Carolina.  I'm using Squirrel Repellent liberally.  What a late winter garden:  everything smells like urine!  

So--perfection.  My favorite magazine, UK's The Simple Things, had a feature on The Slapdash Manifesto.  I.e., whatever is good enough is good enough.   I love that.  After all, being imperfect is what makes us human.  My house, my garden, my baking, my knitting, my hobbies, (my hair!)--all works in progress.  Simple means imperfect, and simple is really, really enjoyable.  

The Slapdash Manifesto consists of general principles for good enough:  

• Become a dabbler.  Just have a go.  Begin. 
• Enjoy the journey.  Its the doing, not the result that matters.
• Try.  Get in the spirit.  Forget criticism, your own or others. 
• Make your own rules.  Have fun.  
• Pause.  Go slow.  Stop and smell the roses, or eat cake, or take a nap.  

 Isn't this nice?  It makes me feel good.  Tomorrow I will check on the new plants, the perennials just sprouting, the sedum coming up in all my pots (I use it as filler, it's so reliable and sturdy), mint that is peeking through the leaves, oregano and chives I transplanted.  Even violets that will show any day now.  And won't that be wonderful?  

 

This Diary of a Mindful Nature Lover is thoroughly imperfect.  I've been posting since 2017, a long time ago now.  Whenever I check, it surprises me, the number of readers and where they (you) are from.   So, take a walk.  See what is making its way through the leaf letter in your garden or neighborhood.  Take a photo.  Show the world some love.             

                  In peace, Nina Naomi

 

 

 

 

LENT AND BLACK HISTORY MONTH

 

Lent this year began in February.  A moveable feast, our Shrove Tuesday (Fat Tuesday) pancake supper is, falling the day before Ash Wednesday which is 46 days before Easter, which itself is set by the Lunar Calendar, Easter being the first Sunday following the first full moon after the vernal equinox.  The resurrection of our Lord--like the tides that lap our North Carolina shore and yours, wherever you may be--is dated by the phase of the moon, our constant companion, using the Gregorian calendar which superseded the Julian calendar (put in place by Julius Caesar) at the First Council of Nicea in 325.  Could anything be more ancient? 

Something we might be especially thankful for, Lent 2026 (and many years, Ash Wednesday falling somewhere between Feb 4 and March 11) begins in the month we dedicate to honoring Black History.  This year is the 100th anniversary of Negro History Week, inaugurated by historian and author, Dr. Carter G. Woodson in 1926.  Then in 1976, during the year of our nation's Bicentennial, GOP President  Gerald Ford made the month official. 

So appropriate.  We began the Lenten journey on Ash Wednesday with the words, "Remember you are dust and to dust you shall return."   These are words of repentance and mortality.  They require kneeling.  Is the time we have to repent before our death really any longer than the time between Ash Wednesday and Easter?  Has it not passed, is it not passing, more quickly than we ever knew? 

February is the birthday month of Frederick Douglass (1818-1895), abolitionist, orator, statesman and one reason the month was chosen to celebrate Black history.  You might want to look up the stirring poem "Frederick Douglass" by Robert Hayden, the first African American to hold the office later known as Poet Laureate of the United States.  Part of it reads:

this man, this Douglass, this former

slave, this Negro

beaten to his knees, exiled,

visioning a world

where none is lonely, none hunted,

alien,

this man, superb in love and logic,

this man

shall be remembered.   

 Today we still have human beings lonely, hunted, alien, beaten to their knees, exiled, killed.  In Lent we repent and seek forgiveness.  Jesus says "Love your enemies."  Tyrants foment hate.  Jesus says, "Forgive."  Tyrants seek revenge.  Jesus says, "Feed the hungry, heal the sick."  The tyrant cuts humanitarian aid and medical research.  Jesus says, "Blessed are the peacemakers."  The tyrant creates masked police forces and inflicts fear.  Jesus says, "Give to the poor."  The tyrant enriches himself.  

As we move through Lent toward Holy Week, we are aware that corrupted power, religious hypocrisy and state violence are at odds with peace, truth, trust, hope and the promise of new life. It is up to us to work for the peace of God that builds community and passes all understanding. What a wonderful challenge we have before us.  

As the Rev. Jesse Jackson said at the 1988 Democratic National Convention, we are "at the crossroads, a point of decision.  Shall we be expansive, be inclusive, find unity and power; or suffer division and impotence?" "Common ground," he continued.  "Think of Jerusalem . . . . A small village that become the birthplace for three religions--Judaism, Christianity and Islam."  "Yearning to be free," is our common ground, says this pastor we remember this year of his death this month of Black History.  

Lent 2026 we might recognize as one of special opportunity, wondrous opportunity.  It might be the Lent we have been waiting for.  We might become the people we need to be to act in faith and save those hunted, alien.  If so, we say, thanks be to God.  AMEN

 

 

OH HAPPY DAY

 It's dusk now  and the snow continues to fall without a sound.  We have our Christmas tree, sans ornaments, out on the front deck where we move it until we can bear to take it, stripped bare, into the woods, any day now as it's February.  It sparkles as darkness falls.  As I write, I can see the outline of the trees standing tall in the woods, each branch just lightly snow-covered (more by morning I'm sure) looking ethereal.  Now, moments later, only dark.   This is the North Carolina Piedmont and we can rhapsodize about the snow, it blesses us so seldom. 

I haven't left the house for days, suffering from a strain of flu that escaped my flu shot this Fall.  But today is Day 5 and symptoms are much better, so that nothing could be more welcome than what looks to be a genuine soft snow that will make our woods a refuge of white. Tomorrow our meadow will look like this: 

Cedars after snow storm in our meadow

 It is a beautiful sight.  The other day, during a dusting, I woke to find deer lying just up from our back patio.  They stayed that way the whole time I watched, no stamping of little hoof, just a direct gaze. 

I wonder where the resident Canada geese are during this weather?  No honking as they cross the sky tonight.  The birds must be hunkered down too I hope.  I hope the cedar trees are providing shelter and food.  We couldn't fill the bird feeder this week with the path all icy and both of us with the flu. 

We know how much is going on in America.  Mostly in Minneapolis but elsewhere too.  Cruelty and sadism to deplore and togetherness and community resistance to admire.  My mind, perhaps like yours, is buffeted and my actions more sporadic than I'd like. But we must always find what's wonderful, too. So tonight it's snow, deer, candlelight, blogging and a lifting of the flu symptoms that Tamiflu has helped with this week.  Tomorrow we will be solidly snowed in, in our house in the woods with no snowplows in sight and I will cook what we have.  My husband has been waiting to bake a cake; me, chili with every bean and veg in the house, lots of cumin.  If we loose power of course, all bets are off--two grandparents like ourselves.  But for now, thank you God for this snow.  Thank you for the time to write.  Help us defeat the totalitarianism in our country and keep us strong for that task.  Keep us mindful of the hungry deer and birds and all animals in our path, that we care for them as you intend.  AMEN