Cathartic Gardens of my heart

This winter was long and harsh. Ice covered everything and it was a beautiful as it was dangerous. But the price of such a harsh winter was great, the amount of trees fell due to ice was tremendous (no pun intended.... okay maybe just a bit). Sometimes it seems cruel, but in order for new life to grow nature needs to dispose of the old. The other loss that occurred was every single rosebush in my garden died. I had 5 different bushes that never made it to spring. I kept hoping against hope that they might regenerate. I thought for sure that the one rose bush that we had joked was the nuclear rose bush would have lived. The bush was never supposed to get larger than a few feet tall. I hacked it down to a stub when it got to be about 12 feet and again I had to hack it down during the summer. Last summer was the first year all of my roses came out. The red climbing roses that had never done well thrived and I fondly remembered my grandfathers house and bringing flowers to my mom.

They were also the kind that were on the very first house I lived in. I looked forward to seeing them again this year, but alas nothing just dead and rotting wood. My girlfriend and I had lovingly planted them years ago. I couldn't promise her much, my health wasn't good, my income sucked but we'd always have a rose garden. It was really the last remnant that I had around my home that I felt fondly towards revolving around her. But this year there is nothing. Dead sticks around many weeds that I can't manage to pull because they expose the naked rosebushes who's roots after 7 years have grown deep. Today I hacked a bit at it with a shovel, but became so crestfallen I couldn't continue. I thought my life is like my garden sometimes overcrowded with weeds that hide the bones of old relationships. The only thing that seems to thrive this year is my bleeding heart literally and figuratively. 6 years roses have grown in my yard and on the 7^th they shall rest.

But I realized something by saying that. As in my life I need to extract the weeds and clear out the dead wood so that I have space for something else to grow something new and beautiful. Wishing that my dead roses would come to life like Lazarus wasn't the answer, I had to be pro-active. This catharsis is going to happen in my garden and also in my life. Something old and dead must make room for the living and by hanging on to a dead plant it doesn't allow room for something new fresh alive and beautiful. So tomorrow I will don my shovel and my gloves and extract the plants roots and all. I'm sure my hands will be cut by the thorns and my heart will mourn, but for the greater good it must be accomplished. It's funny how life intimates life sometimes. Tomorrow evening I will sit on my patio furniture and light my table top fire pot and think of all the new things to come. My loved ones are welcome to join me. :D