Stain Glass Lens of the 21st Century

Category: Gardening

  • Defense Against The Darkness

    Defense Against The Darkness

    Early every November, when the days are short and nights are long, I gather all that is needed to create my defense against the darkness.

    It usually entails one trip to the local hardware store, old newspapers from the recycling bin and about 2 hours of my time.  With the kitchen counter cleared and covered with the old newspapers I begin this most necessary task.

    It is a dirty task but one that raises my spirits like no other on a dark November evening.  The repotting of my house plants!

    I lovingly choose which of my growing collection needs a bigger or deeper pot and with tender words of encouragement the procedure begins.  Once the new pot is prepared, I delicately lift the plant out of its old digs and gingerly place it within the folds of freshly fluffed soil.  The roots are carefully covered followed by the gentle cleansing of each leaf.  Once complete, fresh water is poured over the soil and misted across the foliage. Then that plant is returned to its place within our home looking refreshed and standing a bit prouder.

    My home is full of green plants, some hanging from the windows, others along windowsills or in planters.  We have an arrangement, me, and these green roommates.  They promise to filter the air in our home filling the grey November days with many shades of green; shades that provide a peacefulness that both comfort and enliven my spirit.  I in return visit each one weekly nourishing them with loving words, fresh water and at times some liquid food.

    As the quote says, “Having indoor plants is like having little pockets of joy throughout your home.”  These pockets of joy are truly a gift from God!

    Blessings,

    Rev. Heather McCarrel

    Photo by Huy Phan/Pexels

  • Feisty But Adorable Neighbors

    Feisty But Adorable Neighbors

    As the end of September draws near I know the time has come to do one of my least favorite tasks; turning over the vegetable garden.

    Despite the baskets of vegetables this year’s harvest supplied, I still find it difficult to pull up plants that show the smallest hope of bearing new fruit. 

    As I stood by the garden on this chilly but bright morning it seemed the beans, now wandering way above my head, deliberately stretched to their fullest revealing the tiny new beans.  The tomato plants gleamed with a certain shine as the morning light danced off their many tiny green gems and the spinach was more thick and lush then I had remembered, tempting me to just return inside.

    Twice over the past few weeks I had headed out with plans to pull up the garden and twice I had returned inside; today had to be different. Today I must be tough and get the task done.

    Whispering an apology I began to pull up the small plants then made my way around to the tall beans and peas.  Once they were lying in heaps by the composter I returned to the tomato plants.  It was then I heard angry banter from one of my neighbors.  He made it clear that he wasn’t pleased with what I was doing.  His protests went from a harsh tongue lashing to throwing pine cones at me! 

    He sent down a few warning pine cones which loudly banged off of the metal roofed shed echoing throughout the yard.  I stopped, looked up and this little red squirrel stood on the edge of the tree bough twitching its tail in a rather threatening manner.    

    I laughed at his tenacity; but he wasn’t amused and with little effort, dropped a pine cone right in my direction. At this point my dog, who had been napping, joined me by the garden.  Together we stood looking up as pine cones rained down around us.

    It would seem this tiny neighbor was very invested in the continued growth of my vegetable garden. Perhaps it was his high pitched “tit-titching” of me or his tense but adorable stance, but I decided to take his advice and the tomato plants still stand. As I gathered up all the garden tools and began to tidy up around the garden he quieted down and by the time I turned to go inside he was silent. 

    It wasn’t until an hour later I looked out the kitchen window and found this exasperating neighbor standing on the wooden edge of the raised garden enjoying a small green tomato.  I swear, he turned looked me straight in the eye and smiled as he continued to enjoy his lunch!

    May we all be blessed by feisty but adorable neighbors,

    Rev. Heather McCarrel

    Photo by Gael Dupont-Langexin/Pexels

  • Reaping What We Sow

    Reaping What We Sow

    The vegetable garden has been a source of constant inspiration this summer, time spent weeding, poling up the beans and peas and trying to stay ahead of the many intruders trying to nibble at my pending harvest.  Recently, under a smoke filled sky and through a dense humidity I found myself wondering why I even bother gardening but the answer came almost as soon as the question was formed.

    The answer arrived at the far corner of the plot where I purposely planted the tomato plants. I had arrived prepared to cage up the four tomato plants I placed weeks earlier and was surprised to find not 4 tomato plants but three times more!

     Puzzled at first I took to pulling up the weeds only to discover growing wildly among the rows were tall tomato plants, seemingly they were the result of the seeds from last year’s fallen fruit.  I wasn’t sure at first if they should be allowed to continue or if I should pull them out, especially since they dared to grow where I had planned straight pathways.

    Some were pulled out while others were left to grow and now, they bear fruit with just as much pride as their purposely planted neighbors. 

    It has reminded me of a lesson Jesus teaches in the Gospel of Luke and Paul repeats in the Epistles; we reap what we sow. Meaning, those who spend their life spreading seeds of kindness, patience, joy and understanding will gather in a harvest just as rich. However, the opposite is also true, spending one’s life selfishly focused on your wants, at the expense of others, results in a lonely and conflicted existence.   It is a lesson in karma or as Robert Louis Stevenson writes, “Sooner or later everyone sits down to a banquet of consequences.”

    Robert Louis Stevenson advices us to “not judge each day by the harvest we reap, but instead by the seeds we plant.”  May we all have a rich harvest.

    Blessings,

    Rev. Heather McCarrel  

    Photo by Binyamin Mellish/Pexels 

  • Autumn Aroma

    Autumn Aroma

    Once autumn arrives it is pumpkin spice everything.  I even saw an advertisement last week selling pumpkin spice brake pads!  Of course the service station was just having some fun with this pumpkin spice madness.

    For me the perfect aroma for autumn is not pumpkin spice but a bouquet of sage, thyme, rosemary, parsley, basil and oregano.

    With the threat of the first frost upon us the time had arrived to harvest my herb garden.  I cut each plant leaving the roots in place with hopes that next spring they may sprout again. Each herb released an intoxicating scent when cut, a means of departing the garden with one final farewell.

    Some of the herbs were delicately tied and hung upside down on a wooden rack in our mudroom, welcoming all who enter with a savory fragrance.  Others were prepared for a faster drying process in the oven.  With the oven warmed to 170 degrees and the necessary supplies gathered: reclaimed glass jars, parchment covered cookie sheets, and a mortar and pestle, I was ready to start.

    Soon the house filled with the best aroma autumn can offer. Not only does this process fill my home with a warm and delectable perfume it also adds a touch of summer to each winter dish. 

    Sure, pumpkin spice is nice but the signature smells of my own home grown herbs is a reminder of warmer days that help carry me through another cold Grey-Bruce winter.

    May we all find simple ways to honour this most rewarding season!

    Happy autumn everyone,

    Rev. Heather McCarrel  

  • Sweet Summer Mornings

    Sweet Summer Mornings

    Photo by Torsten Kellermann/Pexels

    Abby, my canine sidekick, and I enjoy starting the day early.  After a quick breakfast Abby is ready to follow me down to the water barrel where I begin to fill watering cans.  The splashing of water seems to wake the birds and slowly they join us with their perfect pitch. With our wagon full of heavy watering cans we follow the softly lit path down to the garden. The next half hour weeds are pulled, vines are placed on poles, roots are watered and, on a good day, fresh vegetables are gathered.

    Each summer day begins with this most enjoyable routine; until recently.  One morning a neighbor snapped a photo of a bear that was meandering down our street, calmly enjoying the sunrise; Abby and I would have been at the garden as he passed by!  A week later I was surprised to see a tall thin fox running down the street and disappear into the forest.  And, if this wasn’t enough, my friend was shocked to cross paths with a porcupine early one morning.

    I decided to play it safe so we stopped our morning routine.  I simply took Abby out on a leash each morning for a few minutes.  It was decided that evenings would be our time in the garden.

    This decision didn’t work out too well.  By the time evening arrived my tiredness would win out and the garden began to show signs of neglect.  Also, restlessness had taken up residence in my soul expressing itself through impatience and tiredness.  My morning routine had grounded me in a quiet time of prayer and solitude that resulted in a profound sense of connectedness with God; I was missing this deeply.  

    So, we bravely re-committed to our much loved morning routine.  Abby and I have been returning the wagon to its place by the water barrel just as the sun’s early rays climb over the horizon. It is with joy that I drink my morning coffee with a touch of dirt under my nails and a happy dog by my feet.   We have not met any wild beasts and if we do, we have decided to simply smile, nod and quietly go about our business.  You see, us early morning types tend not to be very social.

    Rumi wrote, “The breeze at dawn has secrets to tell you.”  I am grateful that each morning starts with this quiet time; a time when I can listen to the secrets of the breeze.

    Blessings,

    Rev. Heather McCarrel

  • Flowers of the Hours

    Flowers of the Hours

    Photo by Chulpan Gallyamova/Unsplash

    Have you ever noticed how the twelve months of the year line up with the first twelve hours on a clock? 

    Midnight to one a.m. is January with its quiet darkness followed by two a.m. the equally dark month of February; these are the restful months of deepening as roots do into the soil. 

    New life begins to appear in March, the 3rd month of the year; the quiet hour of three a.m.   This is the time of sprouting and breaking free from the soil.  The slight rays of the sun begin to lighten the sky around 4 a.m. just as April, the 4th month of the year, carries us into the dawning of spring bringing with it Snow Drops, shy little Crocuses and tiny new leaves on each tree. 

    By May we arrive to the celebration of Tulips, Daffodils, and the highly perfumed Hyacinths followed by the brilliance of June which explodes with colour from the top of each tree down to the tiniest wild flower among the grasses.   

    The monthly pace of each hour occurred to me this past week as the Tiger Lilies filled the gardens and waved from alongside the roadways.  The Lilacs, Bleeding Hearts and Peonies have come and gone signally the early summer’s passing and now we are in the time of Daisies, Delphiniums, and Columbines; which means we are at half past July already!

    Before we know it the hour of the Poppies, Black-Eyed Susans and Foxgloves will arrive filling the garden with whimsy while quietly drawing us closer to “a quarter to autumn” and, without much fanfare the Chrysanthemums, Sunflowers and Purple Fountain Grass will usher in the tenth hour and we will find ourselves in the roar of autumn colours.

    Each month is part of a whole; a bouquet of beauty.  May we all pause long enough and often enough to capture the beauty of each hour.

    Blessings,

    Rev. Heather McCarrel

  • “Poling Up” The Beans

    “Poling Up” The Beans

    Photo by Annie Spratt/Unsplash

    It has been a great spring for vegetable gardens!  I spent this morning pulling up weeds, thinning the onions and “poling up” the beans.

    “Poling up” the beans has become a daily task.  I speak sweetly to each little green bean plant while gently encouraging the vines to grow up the thin bamboo sticks. Each day I leave them delicately wrapped around the poles in the right direction only to return the next morning to their wandering ways. 

    As I, again, gather the vines from the patch of peas, soil and from wandering towards the tomatoes I whisper sweet nothings while rewrapping them around the poles.  Tomorrow will be the same and yet, I will happily redirect them.

    It was green beans that first hooked me on gardening. During grade three we each were given a clear plastic cup, a wad of wet paper towel and a bean seed.  With an indelible marker we placed our names on the cup, wrapped the seed in wet paper towel, placed it in the cup and picked our spot on the windowsill; than we waited.   

    The excitement of witnessing the daily growth of that tiny black seed has never left me.  This excitement is only matched by the day I proudly display the first pickings from the garden.  It may only be a radish or a meager offering of lettuce but there is nothing in the world that tastes as divine as the first “fruits” of the vegetable garden.

    Philosopher Francis Bacon reminds us that “God Almighty first planted a garden. And indeed, it is the purest of human pleasures.”  So, this week as we officially head into summer 2022 may we all spend these cherished days doing that which adds to our joy, increases our awe and fills our soul with delight.  

    Happy Summer Everyone,

    Rev. Heather McCarrel