Fresh New Day» bees

110 – Project. Crimson.

Lynsey — Sat, 19 Dec 2009 10:37:55 +0000

I think the Pohutukawa is New Zealand’s expression of the heart. I know the more typical view is that it is the NZ xmas tree. It is true it is in flower around this time of year and a more vivid red would be hard to find. I like them very much – their hardiness and willingness to grow in the most extreme conditions make them a welcome (and welcoming) species in coastal areas.

Despite their prolific flowers attracting steady streams of bees they are rather more reticent in the production of seedlings. The seedlings, however, show up in the must unlikely and inhospitable locations – in cracks in walls, slight gaps in bricks, in a tiny spaces between rocks – in fact almost anywhere where there can’t be much more than a few grains of windblown sand and dust, and little more than an occasional dampening of rain.

And this is why I think of them as being the expression of the heart. Like love, they grow in the strangest and toughest environments, and in spite of the adversity they show their life force beautifully.

Manifesto
23. Every day retain your personal power. It belongs to you. No one else.
25. Every day your light shines for others to see.
27. Every day pain is a sign of growing.

086 – Sip the cool green

Lynsey — Wed, 25 Nov 2009 10:51:09 +0000

If we were the size of butterflies, we would be able to rise up in the cool stillness of the early morning. We would be able to take our first breaths of the morning air and we would be able to breathe as if it were the first day ever. We would feel the clean air rushing into our bodies and with each escaping breath we would release the staleness from our souls freely. Gratefully. Calmly.

We would feel the warming day and the cooling night parting company. We would smell the dawn rain and the damp earth and we would feel vibrantly energised and alive.

If we were the size of butterflies we would be able to sip the cool water and be cleansed and we would drink and drink again until our thirst was quenched. We would feel the refreshing purity of the water reaching the very essence of our being.

We would hear the hum of bees and the rustle of insects and the birds calling the way that they have forever and our world would be filled with the joyous noises of life. We would hear the stems of plants squeaking, rubbing, stretching as they grow past each other.

If we were the size of butterflies we would care a great deal more about the vibrations of green – the tone-on-tone harmonics – and our world would seem like a very, very large, mysterious, and beautiful place indeed.

If we were the size of butterflies.

Manifesto
01. Every day is a fresh new day.
05. Every day is now. The present moment.
39. Every day trust that there is a bigger picture. You are a part of it even if you may not know what it is.

080 – Calendula

Lynsey — Thu, 19 Nov 2009 10:13:19 +0000

Marigolds (Calendula officinalis). I like ‘em. Simple, rustic charmers, I like their self-seeding qualities, and their warm welcoming colours. We always had them growing at home. I think they are one of my ‘early’ plants – a select group of species that I can remember from a very tender age.

Marigolds have a very distinctive – almost beer-y – fragrance, both from the flower or from broken leaves/stems. Apparently there are varieties with sweet flavoured leaves, but my experience has been they’re bitter – too bitter for salads even though they are edible. And the leaves are furry – urgh – I don’t hold with eating furry plants. The flowers are also edible and have been used as a substitute for saffron. I haven’t tried them myself, but I would expect colouring rice with the flowers would be pretty easy.

I’ve boiled up the flowers for dye – in this case I was dyeing calico fabric. I got muted yellows, which in the day was not what I wanted – I wanted the harsh bright colours that only synthetic dyes produce. I had a kind of homeopathic expectation of the resulting dye – if the flowers are day-glo orange or rescue yellow it stands to reason that … ah, the joys of youth and learning by doing. Like when my cousin came to stay and helped out by weeding the flower garden. Unfortunately, seeing the difference between weeds and plants that grew like weeds was not his strong suit, and so there were fewer calendulas that year. We didn’t have the heart to tell him, we just trusted some of the seed would come through and we’d have a crop again the following year. We did – they’re such good and reliable plants. And our cousin? Well, he was such a delight what could we say – and besides, what a great memory to keep.

The other good thing about calendulas is they almost always have a steady flow of foraging bees. I think they’re made for each other – neither are open for business if it starts to rain.

Manifesto
27. Every day pain is a sign of growing.
40. Every day give things a chance to work out.
43. Every day accept you will make mistakes. Learn from them. They are opportunities in disguise.