dreaming under a flowering tree

yesterday i headed over to orchard supply to buy some organic citrus fertilizer (my lemon hasn't held a bloom or set fruit in several season) and a pair of pruning shears. i came home with a four-foot, bareroot weeping santa rosa plum.

i have to say, i only hesitated for a moment as i wondered if it met my resoloutions and would fit in with my life. was it worth the cost of precious space that had been planned for annual veggies? and then i thought about my resolutions, specifically number three: i will plant a few things just because they make me smile.

but the truth is, that isn't the only reason i chose this plant. it is, after all, edible, and not just edible but as a tree rather than an annual it is significantly more low maintenance and provides larger harvests year after year. and yes, plum are something i love to eat.

but still, it wasn't just that. it was this: i am in the process of trying to buy a house. a small home with space for a large garden in a town that feels like the perfect combination of urban and rural, close enough to drive to all the big-city attractions san francisco has to offer, yet far enough out to feel out of the chaotic fray. a place that is inexpensive enough to afford even on a gardener and writer's income (or the nursery-worker's salary) and has rental potention until i am able to cut the corporate cord.

so just where is this home i hope to own? in santa rosa, of course. so you see, it's not just a beautiful flowering tree, or a source of sweet fruit that i can share and enjoy. it's a symbol of the life i hope to have some day, that i work toward tirelessly with every thought and every cubible hour spent.

right now, that little tree is uprooted and bare of leaves, with several thin limbs twisted or broken from its journey to the nursery, but inside it carries so much life and the potential for so much abundance.

waiting by the phone

yesterday i started reading three cups of tea by greg mortenson and david oliver renin. it's the story of a climber who got lost in the mountains after a failed attempt to climb pakistan's K2, the second highest peak in the world.

the short version of the story is this: after wandering for days he found himself in a small village and while he was there discovered his life's calling: building schools in these remote, impoverished locations. but not just schools. schools for girls.

so what does that have to do with gardening you may ask. in my life, a lot. greg mortenson found an incredible gift when he came down that mountain. not without cost, but it was a cost he and many others are willing to pay: give yourself to help save the world. and all i kept thinking as i read those words was that i wanted that to be me. not out in pakistan building schools, but making that kind of difference.

for me, i know that calling has at its epicenter growing food, but beyond that, it's a blur of too many options. i have the drive and the will and the desire but the path is still obscured. it's as though i'm sitting at home dressed for a party waiting for someone to call and tell me where to go.

there are in the world many people who rely on force of will and conscious decision-making to determine their direction and cut the trail themselves. there are others to whom a path is revealed and they then spend their energy following it. i have been trying to do the former, to no avail. these days, i pray for the latter. for some higher power to point me in the right direction, because once i know where i'm going, i have no question that i can overcome any obstacle to get there.