Inside Out

I left off with a picture of the first buds of Wisteria - and that was a hopeful and positive note on which to focus as differing energies asserted themselves into the Labyrinth.

Well, let me say that mostly it was people who care about me and wanted to help me.  Yes, that's actually more akin to the actual truth.

Now the Wisteria are blooming in their lush and fragrant way - filling the air with sweetness and a gorgeousness that is not captured by my camera.


I worked on one of the outside lanes of the Labyrinth and found the only really useful and satisfying way to spread the sand the way I wanted was to get down on my hands and knees and work it into the ground.  This doesn't hurt my back, and it's connecting me to the earth and the process in a way I couldn't have imagined.

So while this may not look (in the picture) much different from the other side, it is wholly different to me.  And the inner energy of focus and containing has found its way back into the project.  I like the look, the feel and the grounded nature of the path.  It's not finished, but I can see I'm on the right track.

The small circles to the right are two of the three special gardens that I want to plant with fragrant, fragile annuals... for my children.  Of course the number three works its way into so many aspects of my life - I'm not surprised when it shows up.

Then I decided to move to the middle and work on the center circle.  I don't know if you can see, but I'm laying small stones in the sand and making a kind of floor.

Not solid, but smooth and loose and natural.

I got only so far and then my body went through a kind of upheaval.  (Men - you can avert your eyes if you need to...) I'm beginning the phase of menopause and yesterday I was simply laid low with aches, pains, throbbing head and general malaise.  Like I had been hit by a truck.

No surprise how womb-like this center looks - is it?

So I wasn't really surprised that my body was turning itself inside out ... or outside in.  The upheaval was painful, but as with other pains associated with birth of any kind it doesn't last forever and today I am able to go back out and continue.

Shoveling smaller loads of sand, working it into the path.  Seeing shoots of grass still pop through.  Feeling the soundness of the ground beneath my hands.

I can see it coming to life.




And I like the way it looks.




And feels.

And I hung up my two stained glass windows again.  

It makes me happy to see them hanging in the pergola!