June Meditation: Pause

There is a moment in the June garden that needs to be exalted to an appropriate level. Having spent May planting, April sowing and turning, March cleaning and raking, February planning and ordering, January aching with longing… you reach that first moment in June where everything is complete. 

Oh of course this moment is fleeting. Mere minutes later you see weeds that sprouted when your back was turned, and green caterpillars sneaking past the barricades, and is that rose bush exactly where you want it?

But for this moment, the apex of the flight, the top of an inhale - you’re done. You have gardened. You can pause and see the rills you dug in the cold spring soil full of leaves reaching upward. You can admire the pruning you did last fall as it fills in with leaves and flowers. You can bask in the glow of the first peonies, tumbling open like a trunkful of skirts. 

There is more to do. There is always more to do.

But pause now, on this lush June evening, scented with linden and irises, damp with dew, violet with twilight.

Pause and love where you are.