Friday evening was spent cleaning up the garden, a task I really needed to get to as I had been so busy of late. My bindweed called to be cut and so most of my time was spent unwinding it as much as possible (any who have done this know what a task it can be) and cutting it to useable links for drying. I also removed its flowers for drying as was requested and harvested some wild lettuce. Some time later I looked to see what phase of moon we were in– waning. I was a bit puzzled as to why I had been called to harvest now but I try to listen first and the rest tends to come. Normally, waning is a time for below ground bearers and root harvesting. Plants whose unders are going to be the bits used are the ones planted during this time as well. Folklore holds that above ground plant energies are enhanced by the moon’s increase, drawn up by the pull. This said, I think intuition or in this case the connection to the plants, takes precedence.
The thought of which brings me to smile (you can’t see but it’s there just the same) as I am writing this because two thoughts popped into my head– one was of the husband having asked “Did you just say the bindweed called you to harvest?” Sometimes my words throw him. Recently someone asked what I meant by a tree calling to me, what it sounds like, and I said something to the effect of “come to me”. Later, when I gave it some thought, I realized that wasn’t exactly accurate… it’s more like a compulsion. My mind takes this and I guess forms words to explain that compulsion, not that I am actually hearing words per se. It’s a hard thing to formalize and in the end I guess it’s neither here nor there in the grande scheme.
My second smiley thought is of my fellow hedger and her plant energy. See, the day after I spent a leisurely day with some wonderful ladies talking shop and things. She gifted me with many cherished things, among such were two new plantlings for the garden. I carried them home and nestled them amongst the harvestings in the workroom so they could adjust to my energy some before moving them to the garden. In the morning, the bindweed cuttings had bloomed even though I was sure I’d removed all their flowers. To me it was a perfect reflection on how strong her bond with her green was and how much she must have given that the bindweed responded to this energy by producing such a beautiful last flowering.