The thing I love most about this time of year is the tangible pulse of life running through everything. The plants are arising, unfurling, awakening, so much is happening and yet there is no effort involved, no one is managing it or controlling it, life is fulfilling its own purpose all around us.
So often I am forced to stop and acknowledge that all the lessons I need in life are there in nature, taught to me by my garden or the hedgerows, implicit in the rising sun or the waning moon. Life just is, and we are nothing but life.
Though there isn’t much in flower right now, there is still so much variety in shape, form and colour in my little garden, each bud unique, none more beautiful or better than the other.
I love watching the first leaves of seedlings appearing and then seeing how they differentiate later on. The first leaves that appear are actually cotyledons, part of the embryo, so they look similar in all dicot plants. The next two leaves to appear will have characteristic features of the particular species. If you look at the borage seedling below you can see that the first two leaves are plain where as the later ones have the characteristic furry, furrowed look of a borage leaf.
Each new leaf displays both beauty and function as the sun illuminates veins and cells. Unlike people, plants have no problems being completely themselves and displaying their vulnerability without attachments.
I love to watch the new buds open on the forget-me-nots and lungwort (pulmonaria officinalis) and observe the freshness of the new seasons growth on the more subtly hued plants like lavender.
And what is more perfect in nature than unfurling ferns? Each one follows such a distinct pattern yet no two are alike. Like nature, like us who are no different to nature, they stand on the knife edge between order and chaos.