Amy in the Garden

I emerge.

After four months of challenges in the office, that cost me time and energy, I have emerged from the smother of deadlines to blink in the sunlight. Could it be? The world is still here?! Spring does indeed come after winter? I have time and energy left?! Then there is only one thing to do with those gifts, and that is to write.

The first returned gift was time to walk with MacKenzie. My perpetual toddler, always smiling, always positive, she offered me both the cheer of a smiling face, and a wagging tail, so I was happy both coming and going.

We walk in Croton Dam Park. I always park in the space closest to the ball field, so that MacKenzie can fly out the door and into Disney-for-Dogs: a world where people exist to make her happy. Other dogs are provided. Some people carry fabulous treats in pouches strapped around their waists and they SHARE. I am with her. (Yes, I count myself as part of her Disney world.) She is outside, she is unleashed, she is exercising and smiling.

This works for me. While I observe and participate in her world, knowing that she is happy also releases me to pull into myself and observe my own world. I don’t mind the occasional pairing with another dog walker, but I prefer to walk alone, because I’m able to think. I look at the path and the trees and the birds, and they are different every day. Every season brings its own beauty, and I need to notice that.

Most recently I noticed that shadow informs me about sun. A few days after a snowfall, the sun shows you where it still has power and where the coolness of shadows reign. The curve in the path that is still snow-covered is the curve where the trees block the sun. The snow on one part of the bridge over the reservoir shows where air moves under the bridge, cooling the concrete and encouraging the snow to stay. Ice on the edge of the road is the part of the road that embraces winter.

I love that.

In my yard, noticing the pattern of snow, shadow and light informs me where to plant. Yes, I know that the sun is lower in the sky now, and so is not a complete story about the summer sun’s claim to the land, but it’s close enough. It’s the difference between full sun and partial sun, and my success at reading gardening catalogs.

Sun and shadow, winter and summer, partners. I am so glad I have time again to think about these beautiful things.

MacKenzie, of course, always has time to think of beautiful things. That’s why I like spending time with her.