The fragrance of God

I thought I'd get my remembrance of Dad (and his gardens) in early this year* with a quotation from the transcript of Krista Tippett's interview with Vigen Guroian, "an Armenian Orthodox theologian who experiences Easter as a call to our senses. He is passionate about the meaning of grand ideas like incarnation, death, and eternity as revealed in life and in his garden."

"'In spring, I cultivate the perennial bed with the magenta petals and sweet citrus fragrance of the rugosa rose in mind. In excitement, I wait also for the green bouquet of the broccoli plant and the calm, clean scent of the cucumber.

. . .

"For the sake of beauty, I gladly leave the ruffled red cabbage to grow long beyond its time for harvest. I let the mustard reach high with bright yellow bouquets. I cultivate carefully the asparagus row not just for the taste of its buttery spears but also for the verdant fern foliage that shoots up after the spring cutting. I let volunteer sunflower, cosmos, and cleome seedlings grow where they choose. And I sneak orange nasturtiums into the hills of sweet-potato vines.

"Gardening grows from our deep longing for salvation, so that beauty fills our lives.'"

The full transcript, links to the audio version & "meditations on ancient, sometimes hidden themes of the Easter season and exile from gardens" is here.**

And speaking of letting things grow where they may, today's photo is actually, factually from today (jumping the queue, I know, but the reference in Ms. Tippett's interview called for it). I call it "The Grape Escape" since it looks like the grape hyacinths are escaping the confines of the garden. The other I call "Olly, Olly, Oxen free-o" and is of one of the dear cats from next door looking for his second breakfast (which I know from the Tolkein films, but apparently is an actual, factual thing in other places than Middle Earth). Olly's presence on the porch is explained by Andy's taking to feeding one of the cats from behind the house (whom we called Sparkles because of his bright yellow eyes in his all black face. We know now from the mail carrier that his "real" name is Daryll. I've decided Daryll's middle name is Sparkles & continue to use that when talking to him, much, I'm sure, to his great confusion.) - if Andy doesn't give Olly at least a little food at the same time, he gets quite belligerent.

Off now for some early(ish)-morning tootling, some Easter laundry, &, of course, some stitching.



* Only a week early from this year's Orthodox Easter, the day on which in 2006 that Dad died.

** "A Is for Alleluia" will have particular resonances for some of us.