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Wednesday, 16 August 2017

Sweet peas

Don planted the sweet peas this year. Having run out of time to start them as seeds, we purchased seedlings from a garden centre and he put them in. Most of them went in the usual spot, where the trellis is strong for them to cling to. The extra went beside the rhubarb, where there is another support network, less robust but there nonetheless.

The ones in the usual spot are thin and straggly, with few blooms. They have reached the top of the trellis and are beginning to topple. The blooms are often single rather than double. Despite fertilising, the soil there is depleted. I’m negligent at summer feeding and really only do it before planting, and the result is there for all to see. Scraggly stems, few blooms. Nevertheless, their fragrance is intoxicating.

The leftover seedlings planted by the rhubarb are robust. They have been lounging over the top of the support for weeks now, so that all of the strong-stemmed blooms start out headed earthwards before they curve back towards the sky. All the blooms are doubles, and like their weaker cousins, their fragrance is intoxicating. The soil there is not worn out. The position in the garden is more open to the sun. There are no potatoes competing for nutrients nor mint marauding their roots.

I’ve been busy. Yesterday afternoon I had things to do. There are always things to do in this house, in this garden, and it was a nice day. I sat down in the conservatory, and three hours later I sat there still, catching up on reading, having time to pray and enjoy the presence of the Lord. A bit of respite.
I went into the conservatory draped over the supporting arm of the Saviour, feeling straggly and knowing if blooms there were, they were singles. Maybe there was a hint of the perfume of the Lord, but it was time. Time to be fed. Time to rest. Time to sit in the Son. Time to listen to his voice.

It will take more than a couple of hours on a random day for me to begin to bloom like my prolific sweet peas. But hopefully wisdom will win here, and I won’t neglect the feeding and resting and basking in the light.

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