Like you, I was extremely relieved this past Saturday morning by the outcome of the US election and also possibly like you, I’ve been tense for so long that it’s truly become a challenge to untense. Everything from stiff and sore shoulders that remain up around my ears no matter what I do, to a jaw that seems permanently on the ‘extremely tense setting’ in spite of my best attempts at relaxing it, to the kind of sleep I’m getting – or not getting as the case may be. If you’re like that, I empathize. Everywhere we look there are reasons, so many reasons to be anxious.
But I was able to breathe that sigh of relief along with everyone else, even though I recognize that there is still an incredible amount of tension in the air, in our bodies, in our world. We are, after all, still in the middle of a global pandemic. And, if you live in Ontario, you’ll know that our government still doesn’t seem to be taking that as seriously as it should. Cases are rising daily with no end in sight. As I write this, there are over 1,500 new cases today and a new model for the pandemic to be released later this afternoon is said to show that by mid-December, daily new cases will rise to 2,000 or more. The ineptitude of our provincial government is staggering, it has to be said.
However, if you felt that relief on Saturday morning along with everyone else, you might have allowed yourself some joy (I hope you did!) to know that decency triumphed over evil. Or if not evil, exactly, at least decency triumphed over what had been a complete and utter disregard for everything decent. I mean I like using evil to describe that man, that administration, but that may not be your cup of tea. There is a lot to say and to read on this subject and I am not the person to do that, but what I do want to say is that feeling you have? That better things are possible? That sense of relief and those tears that you had been holding back for the past four years? Those things are real and they are valid. They reflect hope and a sense of optimism, a way of looking forward that is bright and beautiful.
On Sunday, the day after the election had finally been called, I went outside to put my garden to bed for the winter. I cut back dead flowers, trimmed the leaves of our beloved peony bush, pulled the long since wilted hosta leaves from their stalks and cut back the fall blooming aster too, on its last legs by now in the first week of November. I left the leaves that had fallen from our weeping mulberry because why rake and pick up leaves when you can leave them where they are and cover them with black mulch?
Before the mulch, I planted some bulbs. I usually shy away from bulbs because this city’s squirrels like to dig up and rearrange them, and so it always seems a waste of time unless you enjoy garden design by rodents. But this year I wanted to try. I wanted to see something that I planted grow from, quite literally, the ground up. Well, from below the ground, I guess.
I chose Tulipa ‘Vincent van Gogh’ an extremely goth, so ‘dark purple it’s almost black’ tulip whose petals are serrated, like a knife. So, goth AND metal. By contrast I also chose Narcissus ‘Acropolis’, a delicate white flower with hints of palest pink. I think they will make a lovely couple.
After planting, we spent the rest of the afternoon spreading the remaining mulch, carefully blanketing the plants, ensuring the most delicate ones received an extra layer for warmth and safety. For the already established plants along with the newly planted bulbs, tucking them in for the season until it is once again safe to grow and bloom brought a comfort that I wasn’t expecting. It is still so soothing to me to think of all my plants safely underground, sleeping their long sleep through the remainder of autumn, through winter, with the promise of spring on the horizon.
It’s that promise that gets us through, isn’t it? Whatever is happening in our lives, in our world, the promise of the future is what helps us remain hopeful, helps us make plans for better days. If we have that plan, that promise, we can thrive during the bleak times.
Planting spring bulbs in the fall has always been a way to plan for future beauty and this year it just seems so, so necessary to want to lay that groundwork for the hopeful season to come.
There are no guarantees, as we all know, but if we can hold on to the feelings from last Saturday, those feelings of relief, that sense that change and growth and better times are coming, finally, all that will help so much in the depths of winter.
My plants will make it through. We will too.
The Urban Info Girl 