I planted my feet on the ground. Hands were gloved. I totally put on my 30 year old (I don’t like hyphens) brain and pulled. At first it did little more than break the surface of the soil. This was going to take more work, and this old body had been hibernating for months … if not years. I then put on my 25 year old determination, planted one foot on the wall and pulled once more, refusing to give up. The old root let go, and I felt the joy of an Olympic champion. Spring is here.
Yes, I have garden gloves, but there is something about feeling the soil run through my fingers and dirt beneath my fingernails that makes me one with nature. Perhaps it is that part of me that came from the earth, that shares the earth, that is a caregiver of this beautiful soil and all it grows. I grew up with the soil as a gift to our lives. It fed us and our animals, allowed us to have money for another year, blessed us with its beauty. As a tyke, I sat on the soil and played while as my family farmed. I dug in it when the garden went in. It was as much a part of me as was the air I breathed. It still is.
“I loved you even more,” my husband said encountering me with a cart absolutely loaded with flowers. He would have to since the day before we had twice as many carted home. This was our year to give back. Our year of caring for an earth that had cared for us for so long. We read the labels to be sure that they were free of chemicals. It was important to find out if they were bee and butterfly friendly. This man I married is supportive of these efforts to be caretakers, or maybe caregivers.
“Can I buy it?” I asked him. Yep, I found a treasure. While shopping at Costco, I came across a Mason bee barn with little slots for butterflies. A cute little barn with a red roof reminding me of my “roots.” Upon announcing that we had a bee barn, my son’s sister in law supplied us with a little box of Mason bee cocoons. We are setting up housekeeping for the bees, offering them a wide variety of flowers to choose from. Hm. I wonder if each has a different flavor. Now we need to set up a mud pit for the bees so they can seal their cocoons in their new digs. I get to play in the mud once more.
The Mason bees will not sting, so the grandkids can watch them closely and enjoy nature working for us. The hummingbirds were our project last year, but I came up with an idea to take care of both bird and bee. In a clay saucer, I placed stones so the bees can stand on them to drink water. I also put small hummingbird feeders on some of the rocks to draw the hummers closer to us. The ants cannot get into the sweet feeders unless they can swim. Oh, it will be a fun year.
So why are we doing all of this as it is an investment in time and money. We do it because we must in order to save what we have. This is not something to take lightly. I watched CBS Sunday Morning today on the segment about how scientists are looking to nature to find out how it works. Nature is teaching us how to survive. We are surrounded by ways that nature has enhanced our lives. Loren and I have taken on the caregiving of our own little way. Our lives are blessed by what we can give and indeed by what we receive. Care to join us?
Mark your calendars: Meet and Greet at Turtle Creek Golf Club, Greenville, Ohio, on May 4 from 1-5 p.m. Would love to see you. Please join us.
Pamela Loxley Drake is a former resident of Darke County, Ohio and is the author of Neff Road and A Grandparent Voice blog. She can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org. Viewpoints expressed in the article are the work of the author.