The Perma Life

This weekend I spent most of the daylight hours outside puttering around in the garden. I trellised some blackberries, took herb cuttings, checked on my growing seedlings and added compost to my new beds to an itunes soundtrack perfectly suited to spring and the return of the green from the brown.

If you asked me why it is I love my garden so much, I would probably give you a pat answer about the importance of eating local, of knowing where your food comes from, of being a part of the cycle of life. And those answers are all true for me. But, to be perfectly honest, I’m not really that good of a gardener. I make a lot of mistakes, I kill an awful lot of hapless plant victims. If I had to rely solely on my veggie patch to provide my sustenance I would, quite frankly, starve.

The reasons I love being in my garden are more visceral than intellectual or practical. Thrusting my hands in the dirt, working the soil and coaxing watermelons or squash or tomatoes to spring from the earth makes me happy and relaxed in a way that few things do.

The only other time I am completely relaxed is when I am listening to really great music that moves my soul, that says the things I would say were I a poet. So, having the combination of garden dirt, impending spring, warm sunshine and great music was almost too much pleasure to bear this weekend. Life is good and I am lucky to have a little patch of earth to call my own.

Soundtrack for the weekend (abbreviated):

As the man who introduced me to Theresa Andersson said, “It’s a wonder why other musicians even bother after hearing her.”

These guys are a little out there, but when you shut your eyes and just let your cells absorb the sound, you will be hooked.

I love every song from this band. They are optimistic in a sincere way that is sorely lacking in our jaded, cynical lives.