Right now, this is the gate to my garden, the division between what is (sometimes) cultivated, and the completely untended.
It is the barrier that protects my beloved plants, mostly from the bad goats.
The pumpkin vines have curled and wound their way through, pouring into the outside.
And actually, because of this gate of separation and the soil tending in the garden, it has grown much more fierce and wild than anything outside.
Enter if you dare…..
There are clinging vines, stinging ants, weeds that tower overhead, nettles, grass as sharp as a knives, and the savage inhabitants.
The quiet rows of cultivation are lost and overtaken, and the skeletal remains are stricken by maturity and decay.
I had wanted to weed and mulch and replant. It was never the beautiful, productive garden I had planned this year, defeated by the early heavy rains that brought things to an early close.
It was very hard to admit defeat, to give up and let things unfold the way that they have.
But soon as I got over the disappointment of it, i felt released. My garden and I need the fallow rest, a space to let vines ramble and allow the wild.
In my life recently I have had to let go of an old friendship, someone I knew since childhood, but when I got to know them more closely I found myself being taken advantage of again and again.
Because I genuinely like things about this person, and because I have known them for so long, I wanted things to work out, I wanted to understand why they treated me this way, I wanted so much to find a way that they could treat me with respect.
Again and again I always found it in my heart to give them another chance, until at last I had to admit to myself that there is no reason to hold onto a friendship like that.
It’s difficult and tangley to let go of someone you have liked and known for a long, long time. There are still things I like and appreciate about this person, even though I know they can no longer be a friend.
But all things have their season, and all you can do is accept what has grown, and walk unafraid into the wild tangles of the heart.
Here in the wild there are treasures of surprising beauty, some barely hidden, some you stumble on amongst the vines.
There is still life and sustenance and beautiful harvests to be grateful for.
And when you find your way back at last, there is always the hope of a new season to look forward to.