More on autumn ripening

White butterflies appears out of nowhere to lay minute eggs under the leaves of the curly kale that was doing so well in the garden. I thought I was outwitting these white-winged flutterers when I tossed black netting over the plants. Not so! The next time I returned to the bach, I faced a row of skeleton kale. The few leaves that remained carried many fat green caterpillars, that hadn’t even bothered to hide on the underside.

What had happened? I decided that the netting, while not stopping the butterflies from getting through, had defeated the birds that came to feast on the caterpillars. I’ve whipped it off, removed those fat green feasters, and am hoping to see some new kale leaves on my next visit.

Autumn Ripening

What a rich time this is, as under the sustained heat of the sun, fruit and vegetables ripen into sweet lusciousness! This year I grew acid-free tomatoes, a variety that produces quite small fruit, but oh so red and firm. And they last, there in a blue bowl on my kitchen bench. Beefsteak tomatoes however, so bulging and juicy from the organic gardener up the valley from my bach, turn to mush pretty quickly. Last night I gathered up a bag-full and cooked them on the stove with a big squeeze of garlic juice. My house filled with the aroma of autumn. Now this delicious pulp sits in jars in fridge and freezer, waiting to be used in whatever dishes I concoct with autumn’s courgettes, capsicums and aubergines.

First Fruits

The high energy of summer is gently slowing down. People have been returning from their holidays and schools are about to resume. What a bountiful summer this has been, with so many sunny days surrounding Christmas and New Year. And now we approach the time of First Fruits, with berries ripening on our native trees and lush stone fruits – apricots, peaches, nectarines – abundant in the orchards.

As we contemplate this season of fruiting, we may be prompted to wonder about our own fruits of summer. What is it that you have gathered over the long summer days? What is it that you wish to hold and remember?

For me, it’s long evening walks by the sea, the pleasure of eating outside every day, and the soothing sensation of salt water dips in the sea. It’s also about the enjoyment of friends, good company, hanging out with others, laughing and relaxing.

I’ve been nurturing a new book through its final stages, ready for printing. This is like watching a beautiful fruit slowly swell and ripen. Yesterday I saw the cover image for the first time, and felt a thrill at the sense of imminent completion.

What is fruiting in you? What rewards are you experiencing after the hard work of the year just passed? Pause for a moment and appreciate your own self now. Appreciate the support of others, and what they contribute to your wellbeing. Give thanks for what is ripening in your life.

Summer Solstice: finding balance

As we approach summer solstice, two things are apparent: 1) the increasing light, warmth and openness, as if summer is opening its doors; and 2) the build up of busyness before Christmas.

How can we achieve balance? Try pausing at intervals. Stop and breathe. Breathe into summer. Let go of the imposed schedules of Christmas for a moment. Breathe into the spaciousness of summer.

Just one simple practice can make a lot of difference. I find stopping to breathe helps me to stay attuned to the season. For summer solstice is a time of expansion: maximum sun, light, and heart energy.

Walking is another simple practice to create calm during this busy time. Walk in nature, where you can rest your eyes on green trees, blue sea or a dash of crimson pohutukawa.

Summer Solstice falls on December 22 this year. See if you can make space to celebrate this uplifting festival. Keep it simple. All that’s needed is a few friends on a beach, park, or around a meal table. Light yellow, white or red candles. Bring in some pohutukawa blossom. Celebrate the achievements of the year and give each other blessings. Let it be a ritual of the heart.

Discovering the Sacred in Everyday Life

My book A Cup of Sunlight, is taking off. A Women's group is now working through it on Monday nights, and there is a resurgence of energy for this title.

When I feel under under pressure, or there are too many tasks on the lists, I find that returning awareness to the sacred is a way of restoring energy and connection. I am currently practising taking a deep breath before doing anything new, and making sure I stay present.

There is so much to observe in this burgeoning season. The elements are wild, but the earth is warming, receiving seeds and plants with gladness. Outside the trees, in full leaf, are waving in the wind. So much green as we approach Flowering and Saprise/Beltane/Green Day. So much to celebrate.

Spring Planting

Carrots love tomatoes, says my companion planting book. I've just planted Roma Italian tomato seedlings, and sown a row of carrots alongside. Carrots help peas as well. My sugar snap peas, planted a few weeks ago, are climbing nicely up their bamboo stakes. Warm coastal Auckland soil, rich and black. I've found organic sheep pellets at Mitre 10 Mega Store.

Labour weekend is the traditional time to plant seedlings: beans, lettuce, courgettes, corn, tomatoes. Seeds of peas, lettuce, rocket can be sown straight into the soil in warm areas. So satisfying to plant seedlings in spring and watch the plants growing so fast in this wet, warm season.

Sap Rise, Beltane and National Green Day

I’m reflecting on this season of ‘Sap Rise’, as I call it in my book Celebrating the Southern Seasons. It’s a time of high sexual, creative, greening energy. The ancient Celtic festival of Beltane was celebrated at this point midway between spring equinox and summer solstice. In the southern hemisphere Beltane falls on October 31.

For some time I’ve dreamed of this date becoming National Green Day, when we wear something green, or maybe a sprig in the buttonhole, and when we do something for the earth: maybe plant a tree, clear rubbish or weeds, create a garden.

My dream is contradicted by the dark energies of Halloween, based on the old Celtic festival of the dead. This festival falls on April 30 in the southern hemisphere, but the commercial world has imported it thoughtlessly to coincide with the northern hemisphere calendar. Sometimes I fantasise about having sprigs of green ready for the children who come around trick and treating. I offer each sprig with a smile, and say, ‘in our hemisphere, it’s actually spring and the Green Festival.’ It’s tricky though; I don’t want to make the children wrong, but at the same time I do object to this misalignment! Maybe I could find a green treat for them, as a graceful way of synchronising with our southern hemisphere season.

What ideas do you have? How can we celebrate this peak of greening, the lusty energy of full-on spring?

Add a comment (click comment, and then sign up for one of the ‘profiles’ that comes up in the list. Google is easy to do, or maybe you are already signed up for one of them. Then write your comment). I’d love to gather ideas about this.