Surveying the Garden

Last night I went to the studio to “survey” the gardens. Surveying is a normal gardening activity in my world. My husband came up with the term many moons ago…

”Where’s Mom?”
“She’s surveying her plants.”

“Surveying the gardens” also became a good excuse for all the things I *should* be doing, but I’m not…

Diner dishes? I think I need to go survey. Packing for a vacation tomorrow? I definitely need to go survey. Grocery shopping? Survey….

You get the drift. Surveying became my out. My time to be in the calm of nature. My rest. To survey is the walk slowly, intentionally looking at each flower or treasured bulb, in order to see what the gardens’ needs are. When one surveys, it is not time to work. It is simply a time to *see*. Seeing beyond the average hurried walk-through, and deeply studying each and every little plant on your path. Sometimes I have hours to survey, and other times, just a few moments. I feel connected and grounded. Surveying is good for the soul.

One of my favorite parts about surveying is the calm. My garden can be full of weeds that literally grew overnight, and I just quietly make a mental note to myself to pull them later. Human nature is to get in the middle of a mess and frantically start trying to fix whatever is wrong. “Surveying the gardens” is synonymous with listening to someone speak, without butting in with your own thought or opinion. I think that we have lost the ability to simply be quiet and listen, whether it is a restful survey in the garden, or listening to a dear friend express their thoughts.

So, back to last night’s survey.

I walked through the little garden gate and took a few steps and my left foot sank into a hole. Not just any hole, a 4 foot deep hole. The level of being totally freaked out with my imagination was at an all time high. Was the badger back? Was it a secret cavern that my entire studio would sink into? Is it an underground sink hole full of snakes, spiders and who knows what else? I put some large sticks to mark the hole so I wouldn’t fall in, and continued my survey.

Peaceful Survey? Nope. Not a chance.
Freaked out? You bet.

I got home and told my husband all about the enormous hole that almost swallowed me alive. He just laughed.
“It’s just an old septic tank”

How disappointing. secretly I was hoping for a secret cave with buried treasure, like the lost San Saba gold, or more heirloom bulbs. Now, the work begins to fill the darn thing up. But why do today what I can do tomorrow? It’s a beautiful day to survey!

Happy Gardening, my friends!
Love, Keenan at Heirloombulbgirl