When we built our present house in Asheville in 1986/87, we left the backyard landscaping for awhile. It was natural and exuded the ambiance of country/forest dwelling. But after a year or two, we decided it was time to do some aesthetic improvements. So with a design in hand from a local landscape architect, we asked him to do the basics and I took on the rest with the exception of a small [4 feet high, 4 feet wide, 6 feet long and 3 tiered] waterfall. Over the years, despite a leak that I have not been able to locate requiring refilling once every two days when it gets really hot and the pond runs constantly, it has been a constant source of relaxation and reverie. Sitting in the cool of the evening listening to the gurgling water, the pain and challenge of the world dissipate. Over the years that pond has become a metaphor for life to me..
Like creation (Big Bang and childbirth) it had a beginning, and when I am dead and gone, it too will have an end.
The changes through the seasons are a marvel and humbling. Spring brings the cycle of new life, green, colorful, promising. It is now the home to at least two frogs (who knows how many next year?). Summer maturity is lush, exciting, energetic, evidencing a sense of indestructibility. Dogs, birds, frogs, and snakes consume life and sustinance from it. But inevitably faint curling and the slightest loss of color signal the coming of autumn. Dappled shade of summer evenings yield to dappled palette of fall's decline. Then, despite our deepest dreams and hopes, the hands of time conquer the cursing cosmos. But that cosmos guards a profound secret. Its surrender is temporary. Hope, life, and love present victory for those who will enter the miracle.
No comments:
Post a Comment