Night Garden

Stars

Hello again, from the night garden. I’ve been thinking about you… I hope you’re sleeping well. I hope you’re eating market vegetables. I hope, if you’re gardening, that you have a tiny opera at work in the earth.

For me, there is an intense sweetness to this summer, an exquisite kind of loveliness; the lake air, raspberries on the vine, suncreen, bandaids, grilled meats, chinese checkers and battleship, books left open on tables, damp towels, hummingbirds, the forest leaves rustling… I am acutely aware of time passing, of isolated moments with my mother, as though watching clips from a film. Phrases about the garden stay with me all day instead of simply evaporating (or being ignored).

this is a shasta daisy,
this one is monkshood or akanitum (she spells it out),
nepeta or candy cat,
coriopsis,
I’ve planted some chives – they’ll have to be watered every day…
the honeysuckle is starting over here,
this purple is astillby,
ladies mantle, bachelor’s buttons,
centuria
daylilies – you know they only last one day, each flower…
well this one, forget about it. it doesn’t open at night.

Mum’s PA levels are down which means the cancer is shrinking. The chemo is again working its cruel magic. We all celebrate (whoohoo). My sister’s email reads: Mom’s PA number is down to 500, from 5,000 3 wks ago (and 30,000 when she started her treatments). This number, 500, is the PA level she started at when first diagnosed over a year and a half ago. I can’t remember if it that was post surgery, but at that time it was considered high.

Night with its many luminous moons. Night of flying insects, moths, mosquitoes, cricket song. Sun’s shadown. Dusk and midnight. Lightening night with cracks splitting the air, electric. Night shadows on the lawn, slanting orange. Darkest night under cloud cover, new moon. Night lily blooming ochre, yellow, medusa, white.

The night seemed ominous at first glance. I was tentative. Now, after a few weeks, it is more of a friend. The dark pines, the jungle of ferns, the new baby grass and soft earth like putty underfoot… Come and visit. Come out and play!

My very first roles of film come back from the lab wildly underexposed. (There’s such a learning curve to this night work.) With a little magic I am able to salvage this image for you. I’ll call it, Stars.

xo Amanda


Categorised as: Night Garden


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