|From My Garden|
Clivia (Indigenous to South Africa)
For everything, there is a season, and a time to every purpose...
Change is in the air, fellow toads! I am never so keenly aware of seasonal changes as at the time of Equinox, or when I am with my daughters and my father, in whose faces the change of years is most palpably felt.
Poets, of course, have tried to pin to the page the essence of time, its impact on the psyche and on experience for thousands of years. I think of times when human life was more clearly bound to the cycles of the year, and its passage was marked with ritual, whereas now it seems to herald a new wardrobe... ritual enough for the modern age. Yet we still feel the rising sap in springtime and the tucking-in of the Fall.