“The beautiful mundane is everywhere.”—Ross Gay
As I drove into the valley on an early Sunday morning, I listened to an interview with poet, writer, and gardener, Ross Gay. He was talking about his work, The Book of Delights, daily observations of joy. The conversation itself was a delight. I began to note instances of wonder as I drove: the disc of the sun through morning haze, a jewel weed plant growing out of a dumpster of trash, the mist on a church steeple as I crossed the Connecticut River.
“At bird-peep, as the country folk have a way of calling the break of day, I am in my dear garden.”—Celia Thaxter
Most mornings, I walk out the door before the sun is up and my bare feet rejoice in the cool, dew-soaked grass. In the fullness of late summer, my garden is bountiful with earthly delights. The pleasure begins with sound; bull frogs are winding down their basso chorus as the birds begin their melodious song. The goldfinches are a joy as they twitter while hanging from drooping sunflower heads.
“The daily hummingbird assaults existence with improbability.”—Ursula LaGuin
Hummingbirds transport us to another realm. They wake with hungry chirps, make whirring visits to the sweet garden flowers, then zip by to perch on a branch. One hovered, sipping from flowers on the north side of the house, suddenly banked around to the east, then to the south side where it abruptly stopped to feast again on nectar. As the sun warms the garden, other winged creatures arrive. Dragonflies, bees, and butterflies delight with their beautiful fragility.
“I hope you love birds too. It is economical. It saves going to heaven.” -- Emily Dickinson
In September, the cornucopia of edibles in the garden of earthly delights is delectable: dirt-covered roots of beets and carrots, gleaming globes of tomatoes, blocky peppers, crinkled leaves of kale, shiny eggplants, and small glistening jewels of berries that the birds have left us.
The flowers enrapture. The towering giants bring color to the sky. Sunflowers, grown in a variety of heights and colors, feed the bees, then the birds. Joe Pye weed offers its rosy pink blossoms to the pollinators. Vernonia noveboracensis, the New York ironweed, topped with deep purple umbels eight feet in the air, is astounding. The castor bean cultivar, Ricinus communis ‘Carmencita’, is stately with reddish foliage and brilliant spiny scarlet seed pods. Vines climb as high as possible to rival the giant plants. The morning glory ‘Heavenly Blue’ is everything mentioned in its name: glorious as the day begins with color like a piece of the sky. Down at ground level, nasturtiums and calendula sprawl across the garden paths. The circular leaves of the nasturtiums and both flowers add color and zest to salads. One of my favorite spots in the garden that delights every day is an unplanned combination of colors. Amaranth cruentus ‘Oeschberg’ has reddish purple fuzzy plumes. Next to it I planted Emilia coccinea whose slender stalks are topped by bright orange tassels. The orange topples onto the purple and knocks me out.
“Ah, the fugacious universal fragrances of the meadows and woods.”—Henry David Thoreau
The earthly delights are not restricted to cultivated land. Outside the garden, the fields are brilliant with goldenrod, black-eyed Susans, Queen Anne’s lace, and the early asters. For some goldenrod denotes the end of summer. Perhaps, but what a display of joyful abandon when a field is full of yellow plumes.
Life on this earth is not always pleasant. It is important to acknowledge the moments when it is. The natural world, and especially gardens are sources of delight, places to counter the horrors covered by the news. There is joy to be had in unexpected places. Ross Gay gives daily instances in his book. I find daily pleasure in my garden of earthly delights.
It’s delightful
It’s delicious
It’s delectable
It’s delirious
It’s dilemma
It’s deluxe
It’s de-lovely Cole Porter
September 2019