A carrot is hard to grow
my mom used to say,
but never said why.
Feathery greens first, it finds
courage deep in the earth,
pushes upwards, unveiling,
inch-by-inch, dirt-creased, orange flesh.
I have a few, of what I call, carrot friends.
Deep-rooted, wise, they add raw color.
Not like ground-cover,
that crowds, overrides, hides.
Hold a carrot.
Feel its earth, its air.
A carrot is hard to grow,
but I’m figuring it out,
in my garden,
all grown-up.
~from Garden Series I
Life abounds with joy to sustain us. We need to notice. It’s in the moon that cuts a hole-punch in a black paper-sky. It’s in the sea with its calling tide, and sand flats that cast a spell. It’s in the sky, blue with a sun, and in the sip of air-just-right. “Joy is not meant to be a crumb,” Mary Oliver writes, and Ralph Waldo Emerson says, “Scatter joy.” It is with this spirit and it is my hope that this blog, Carrot Friends, will sow seeds of joy, like dandelion snow, land on shoulders, and tickle ears. I wish for joy to echo within nature’s infinite nautilus. The world is filled with many sorrows and disappointments, but in keeping with life’s balance, there is an equal joy to be found. Look and see, hear, smell, taste, and feel.
My husband Michael is a Renaissance man; a professor of law, retired judge, an elite athlete, father, son, brother, and a fine arts painter. I am a therapist, mother, daughter, sister, a woman in love, and a poet, an emerging poet. We found each other in this second half of our lives and now embrace Keats’s kin of truth, beauty, and love. We collaborate and are thrilled when we can exhibit at local museums and galleries. It’s satisfying and fulfills our desire to spread joy. Where there is art, there is hope.
Our most recent exhibit is titled Sustenance and is an expression of how we choose to live our lives finding joy in the everyday. A day well spent is one when we have been creative, active, and sensitive to the simple lines and forces of nature that surround us. We are grateful to have two places we call home. One is near the sea where we run along its shores, swim its waters, taste its salt. The other is in proximity to one of our most literary inspirations, Thoreau’s Walden Pond. We smell simplicity when we run and swim there. We pride ourselves as amateur gardeners and excite in the unexpected trials and tribulations that occur with New England’s unpredictable seasons. Today, a day in mid-March, we hoped to turn the soil, only to wake to a pink sky turned gray turned white with a snow squall. We love art museums, used bookstores, thrift shops, narrow side-streets, farms, oatmeal, fresh bread, and cappuccino. We collect old records, art, and mid-century furniture. We have a beautiful family and dear carrot friends.
I will blog about simple, but extraordinary, things as the moon, the clouds, baking bread, Mom’s soup, the kids, or a sprout. It is easy to take such things for granted, but I try not to, because they sustain me. One of my favorite childhood books is Frederick, by Leo Lionni, about a field mouse who gathers words and colors while the others gather nuts and berries. They think he is foolish, but when all the berries and nuts are gone, Frederick recites the colors of the sky, sun, and grass to get them through the remaining cold days of winter. It’s an endearing story. I will share my poetry and Michael’s art and other inspirations such as a new recipe, books, a creative product, or genuinely good news. Do you ever wonder why we don’t have a channel broadcasting life’s good news?
If you choose to follow this blog, please pardon the simple site. I am not only an amateur gardener, and poet, but blogger as well. I have few skills in the ways of a computer but I know that technology can be a useful tool for connecting like-minds. Feel free to share your inspirations and insight.
Welcome to Carrot Friends! Rich in Vitamin A and beta carotene, carrots heal and help us grow. The world is a better place with lots of carrots.
