Entry 8: Letting Go

The garden that was bursting with life and good food to eat a short three months ago is now bare in comparison.  From the comfort of the greenhouse, I have been washing pumpkin seeds from a giant “prize” pumpkin that grew to about two feet in diameter.  It sat at the outside of the garden gate as festive autumn décor until the deer chewed a hold through the outer shell.  Each seed from this pumpkin, I’m told, will sell for 75 cents.  I carefully wash the seeds and place them on a screen to dry.  

Turning around, I glance out of the window on the door on the greenhouse as the sun has recently set.  A doe is just outside, nibbling on the pumpkin in the compost pile.  I reach for my phone to see if I can take a picture, but she has spotted me.  She stares, ears perked up, directly at me through the glass.  I stand very still so as not to scare her away.  One by one, I see the rest of them.  A leg or a head moves and I count.  Six deer—all female as far as I can tell—are right there outside of the greenhouse.  I wait and watch, but the big albino buck is nowhere to be seen.

Just as seeds take time to germinate, grow, flower, and fruit, so do other things in life.  As time goes on, I have to remind myself to pay attention to everything else going on around me before it passes me by.  

I have gained an intimacy with this landscape in a short few months.  It feels like I’ve known this place for years.  It reminds me of being back home.  It’s quiet here and spacious.  The houses aren’t stacked on top of one another out here.  There is enough land for people to spread out.  It’s easier to hear one’s thoughts, easier to slow down, easier to relax a bit.  But it's different also.  It's home that I miss.  This surrogate place just makes me miss home all the more.

Through the simple acts of observation and putting pencil to paper, I have come to know Eden Hall on a deeper level than I think I would have just coming out here to work.  Taking the time to watch, life doesn’t pass me by so quickly.  Internal meanderings can cloud out what is happening before my very eyes, transforming this serene landscape into a jumbled mess of thoughts.

It’s better, I think, to let those thoughts go sometimes and just watch.  Watch as the heat of summer gives way to fall’s cool breezes.  Listen as the loud crunch of leaves underneath one’s feet changes to the soft crunch of snow.  Take in a deep breath of air and let it all wash away.  

The deer herd slowly makes their way around the far side of the garden fence and down into the field.  I watch a little bit longer, staring at their dark coats against the beaming white of the snow.