Sacred Groves, Mighty Cathedrals

Posted on December 2, 2014 by shobha

Replete with gratitude and Thanksgiving repast, I sought the outdoors for a little reflective time and to come out of the turkey stupor. The rush of cold air instantaneously removed the cobwebs from my mind. I took a walk in the woods appreciating how wonderful it felt to be in this place at this moment. It felt very right.

As much as I enjoy hiking in more open spaces, it is amidst the trees that I’m made aware of my state of grace. Walking slowly along the tall pillars of this hallowed space, my breath is deep and deliberate. My body relaxes as accumulated tensions slip away. The soft light of the late afternoon streams through the high fenestrations in the naked branches bracing the forest’s vault. It creates gentle shadows that will soon merge into a singular darkness.

At first, I’m only conscious of the quiet but, as I let go of the noise in my head, the hushed sounds of life in the woods let me know that I’m not alone. My presence, if noted, does not appear to cause an interruption. Here, there is room for everybody. All are welcome.

Before I know it, I’m feeling more alive and uplifted. Restored in spirit, I head back to the house. It has only been a mere twenty minutes but I know the positive effects will remain much, much longer.

Trees have this power to influence us in ways beyond our understanding. Cultures all over the world have held them precious, sacred. Beyond the fact that trees are the source of fuel and food, shelter and shade, abodes and boats, they have been venerated. Trees have played a central, valued role in human history. Siddhartha became the Buddha under a Bodhi tree. There is the Tree of Knowledge and the Tree of Life. The Wishing Tree and the World Tree. In religion, mythology and literature one finds trees given exalted positions in the human context. All across the globe there are Sacred Groves, Holy Trees, labyrinths amidst trees and, old forests rich in folk lore. We need trees but they can well do without us.

I recall my visit to the Monarch Grove in Pacific Grove, California about ten years ago. Having read that west of the Rockies, Monarch butterflies spend their winters in this stand of eucalyptus trees, I was determined to visit it. It was August so no Monarchs were going to be there but I still felt compelled to go. We found it with some difficulty and as I approached the grove, it looked like nothing much. However, once I stepped into it, an inexplicable calm came over me. I had no doubt whatsoever that this was sanctified space. The Monarchs had blessed it so. Even in their absence, the holiness of the place was palpable. The eucalyptus stood sentinel. Guardians of everything meaningful; maintaining nature’s delicate balance. It was spellbinding. When I left this fragrant, leafy temple, I took with me the sense of having been in the presence of greatness.

I will share here something I’ve never told anyone – when I’m upset or troubled, I choose a tree and pour out all my thoughts and fears to it. Leaning on it or sitting beneath, I vent. The tree silently absorbs my worries and thus unburdens me so I am free to return to the business of living wholly. I call it my Shrieking Tree. Perhaps it ought to be renamed as the Shrink Tree. Has worked wonders for me.

Many years ago, we took our first trip to Provence, France. Topmost on my husband’s must-do list was to hug an ancient olive tree. Who knows why but this cerebral and pragmatic man felt driven to connect with a tree that had stood witness to so much history. It mattered to him. That’s it really, trees are inextricably linked to our human heritage. After all, we used to be arboreal.

Trees are living landmarks. They represent our past and hold our future. They need to be protected, honored and celebrated. Future generations deserve to inherit these treasured monuments of life.

If you haven’t paid much attention to trees lately, been too busy, stressed to the max and feel like you need more hours to the day, I ask you to pause. Trust me, whatever you are doing can wait a bit. Now go outside into the garden or to the nearest park or woods. Pick a good sized tree. Get close and lean into it. Spread your arms around it. Breathe deep.
Notice how you feel. Let the texture of the bark speak to you. Smell the earthiness. Listen to the sounds. Become aware of the dappled light, the temperature of the air and tree, the colors around. Allow the tree to embrace you back. Close your eyes and permit it to comfort you. Remain there for a few minutes or longer. Then, step back and observe how much better you feel. Hug a tree, hug the world.

Ancient olive trees

The woods that border my garden

The tree house

Snow forest

Labyrinth in the woods

Note: If you are looking to send secular cards this season, or in need of hostess/teacher gifts, you might want to consider my botanical cards.
(c)2014 Shobha Vanchiswar
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Is Grateful Dead?

Posted on November 25, 2014 by shobha

The garden has been put to bed. The final rounding up of leaves, mulching of beds and last of the bulbs were planted this past Sunday. It happened a bit later than usual due to the shockingly cold weather we recently experienced. There is a certain satisfaction that comes from completing the seasons chores before repairing indoors for the winter. One feels like one has delivered on being a responsible grown-up.

With my favorite holiday approaching fast, thoughts of gratitude filled my mind as I went about the tasks in the garden. Having this patch of earth to cultivate and call my own is in itself a prized gift. To tend land is so basic to humans and yet not always appreciated enough by those of us who primarily
garden more for pleasure than necessity. By having a garden, I feel I have been specially chosen and given custody of it for posterity.

The rewards of gardening are innumerable and I often wax eloquent on the subject. For maintaining physical, mental and emotional health, putting hands to earth cannot be beat. This has always been understood through the ages but research has established the sustained benefits of connecting with nature. Gives our puttering around the garden solid credibility.

As I take care of the myriad to-dos, I recall the many high points I’ve enjoyed through the growing seasons. The flowers, the vegetables, the birds and the babies they hatched here, the butterflies that never failed to thrill, the inspirations for my writings and my art, the visitors on Open Day so generous with their praise and, countless moments that awed and humbled. The garden hosted so many gatherings with loved ones: it provided place and reason for much laughter and fellowship. It also provided solace when I needed it and a sanctuary for quiet and contemplation. I am overcome with gratitude for my piece of paradise.

Looking back at the year I see how much I’ve been given in the garden and beyond. Even in the difficult moments, there were always the ‘helpers’. By allowing myself a retrospective of sorts, I am empowered by the received bounty and come the New Year, I can look ahead to being and doing better. In the big picture, all the minor grievances fade into oblivion. I firmly believe gratitude begets hope and optimism. The mainstays of all human endeavors. The work of one who attends to the land is the very embodiment of hope and optimism.

Those of us privileged to have a house with property often take it for grated or acquire it as a symbol of some level of success and affluence. In the context of the population at large, we fail to consider how few of us are given this precious gift. Being thankful should be the first and last thoughts in our minds every single day. But on Thanksgiving day, we should be rejoicing in this and all the people in our lives full on. Nothing else should matter. Surely we owe ourselves at least one day of the year to be completely present and give thanks mindfully and deliberately. Consciously counting ones blessings is perhaps the single most powerful factor in how well we live our lives.

So, when we are bombarded and barraged by retailers and media to toss away the opportunity to spend valuable time with family and friends and instead spend the time shopping, we ought to take serious umbrage. No person or organization should be permitted to invade our lives and disrupt the most fundamental essence of our humanity – to share our selves and break bread together. That is priceless and sacred.

From the depth of my heart I wish each of you a Thanksgiving rich in blessings and grace.
Here are some of the things for which I’m grateful:

Weeding help!

Beauty

Naturally Designed

Posted on November 18, 2014 by shobha

As I write this, it is a dreary sort of day in autumn. The kind of day that calls for hot tea and crumpets slathered with butter to go with a hot book. Instead, I’m reviewing garden chores that remain to be done and plans for Thanksgiving and house-guests. It all sort of goes together. As the garden is put to bed, the house is given a revamp. What the outdoors might lack, the indoors must make up.

As I cut back and clear in the garden, I set aside material that could be used in arrangements and wreaths. The fall colors inspire what I choose to display or create for the house and myself This applies to home décor, clothing as well as, seasonal menus. Taking my creative cues from nature works out mighty fine.

The instinct to make the home warm and cozy comes by necessity. The cold, dark months keep us indoors a great deal and while animals grow thicker, longer fur, humans bring out blankets and thick coats from storage. But look at the colors we choose! More often than not, they are tones matching those found in nature. Hues that echo the earth, trees, leaves, flowers, water and sunshine.

It stands to reason doesn’t it? While we may require shelter and safety from the elements, we cannot do without consistent contact with nature. We bring in plants, select nature inspired furnishings, take solace in basic, comfort food that tell tales of soil and rain and sun-kissed days.

In my own preparation for the winter, I have paperwhites and amaryllis putting out green growth and timed to bloom just as December brings the year to a close. Jars of jellies, sauces and chutneys sit poised to flavor meals with the essence of summer. Blankets and throws in shades of sage, bark and sand lay scattered anywhere one might feel inclined to curl up. Plant and seed catalogs are kept handy for dreams and plans. Pinecones, acorns and seedpods decorate tables. Shells collected at the beach are displayed as treasure. Clementines and tangelos piled high like diminutive suns perfume the air and tempt one to pause and savor a healthy snack. The kitchen is redolent with aromas of root vegetables and herbs simmering in stews and casseroles. I put out napkins printed with images of flowers that only a few months ago bloomed in my garden. Everywhere I look I see tributes to the natural world. This is what defines me.

It is plain and simple, we cannot thrive without a constant connection to nature. Far beyond our need for physical sustenance, we need the presence of trees, birdsong, sunlight, flowers, rain and the occasional rainbow. Its what keep us whole and balanced.

As we settle indoors in the comfort of warmth and beauty, lets honor the spirit of the garden within us and keep blooming.

Attention!In keeping with the topic of bringing nature indoors, I am very excited to announce that I have designed a botanical fabric. Please check it out here. It available in a variety of fabrics and also as wallpaper and giftwrap. Fabric for pillows (18×18 sq.inches) is also available here.
Product ideas from this fabric design can be viewed here.
Also –In time for the holidays, have added two more sets of botanical cards. See them here. Great for sending out holiday greetings, hostess gifts, teacher gifts, thank you notes, get well soon …
Please check out these links and give feedback! Plan your gift list!

Harvest of herbs

Grape jelly

Garlic – watercolor

Antlers and seaglass hold up amaryllis

Kiss Of Judas

Posted on November 11, 2014 by shobha

The garden, a beautiful, productive piece of nature. A place to relax and recreate. An escape from the cares of the world. Paradise on earth. Enter at your own risk. What?

Yes, the garden is a dangerous place. There are more chances of getting hurt and/or sick right here than at a child’s trampoline party. More duplicity exists in the garden than in a single episode of House Of Cards. Hard to believe right?

There is the obvious of course – insects that bite or sting, snakes that terrify, rodents that reside in places you’d rather not know about, neighbors who consistently annoy and stress you out as they lurk about the fence alongside your terrace, plants with parts that pierce, burrs that cling and, limbs that stick out just so they meet your forehead with a whack every single time you hurry by. Not to mention the likes of poison ivy and that stunning but sinister monkshood. The list of plants with all or some parts that are poisonous is extensive and for the most part, we live with them quite harmoniously. Think hellebores, lily-of-the-valley, pennyroyal, foxgloves, rhubarb, hydrangea, rhododendron, wisteria, narcissus, chrysanthemums, …

Then there are the perils in the hardscaping. Paths that turn slippery when it rains, narrow steps that are less than stable, wooden railings that can fall apart from rot, stones and hoses that can trip, you get the idea.

But, there are the sly, seemingly innocuous threats in the blur of green and bounteous beauty. Lets start with seasonal allergies that we’re all too familiar with. Grass and tree pollen are ubiquitous elements in every garden. The allergy might kick in at any age and then every now and then it might amp its intensity or simply not bother to show up at all. I myself became victim to spring allergies only in recent years. It took me a while to figure out that this was what was causing my misery. I felt relieved to identify it and at the same time, I was absurdly upset. It felt as though my best friends had turned on me. I thought they liked me!

Years ago, each time I came in from weeding in the garden, I’d discover itchy rashes on my forearms. The saps of many plants cause skin conditions that can prove quite distressing. But I couldn’t think what was affecting me in the course of pulling young don’t-want-’ems of assorted parentage. Then it occurred to me – the self-seeded euphorbias were the culprits. As I went about digging them out, some of the broken plants rubbed on my arms and caused the skin reaction. Often, saps, in combination with sunlight, will react with human skin aggressively. In my experience, this is true for figs, poppies and peonies amongst others. I’ve since learned to do much in the early or late hours of the day.

Likewise, handling hyacinth bulbs causes my hands to itch unless I wash them with soap and cool water soon after. Pricks from rose thorns are universally painful but in some like myself, it leads to long lasting wounds that hurt for days. I think the intensity is kind of disproportionate to the size of weapon. And terribly unfair. After all, I lavish so much kind attention on the offenders. I have no doubt that several undetermined, apparently common plants are responsible for my other discomforting reactions like hives and mild headaches.

Its hard to determine what will be toxic to a person until learned the hard way. By growing it. The irony is that we assume the plants we grow are harmless. The notion that any of them can hurt us is unthinkable. Yet, there are plenty of plants that adversely affect plenty of people. Quite literally, one gardener’s favorite plant is another man’s poison.

The next time you develop a mysterious itch, welt, rash, blister, swelling or, feel a tingling or pain, look to your botanical companions. There could well be a Judas in your midst.

Enjoy the gallery of rogues:

Hellebore

Daffodil

Peony

Wisteria

Cannot remember the name of this tropical plant. Observe thos thorns on the leaves!

Rose

Monkshood

The Ultimate Harvest

Posted on November 4, 2014 by shobha

I am so overcome with the beauty around where I live. Autumn is just past its peak but the colors are still vivid and rich. The almost uniform green of summer has faded away and the more fiery hues shine brilliant. In the afternoon hours, the yellow leaves still clinging to trees act like gel filters permitting the sunlight to pass through and emerge pure and radiant. In counterpoint, the trunks and branches form a dark, abstract network holding up this vast, delicate lumière.

The fallen leaves scattered along roads and paths illuminate my walks. They create beautiful patterned carpets that give me as much cause to keep my head lowered as look up at the seemingly reflected blaze above. I am awash in light. There is a sacredness in this. We are each chosen to be anointed with the luminescence. As though our openness to receive it will determine how well we will shine our own way through the dark hours of winter.

In this season of harvest and stocking up for leaner times, it is reassuring to store, can, freeze, dehydrate, pickle and ferment. Wood is chopped and stacked. Fuel for inner and outer warmth. But that is not enough to keep the soul content. It is sustained by beauty and light. When the nights stretch far and the days barely get past gray, the soul reaches into the larder of memories infused with that energy only the truly aesthetic can contain. Like sunrises and sunsets, the emerging butterfly, a cobweb strung with raindrops twinkling in the sun, nascent growth revealed by the melting snow, the vibrancy and utter exuberance of the fall foliage. Harnessing the power of natural wonders nourishes the psyche. Its the difference between surviving and thriving. So I must linger in the light of the leaves and fill myself to the brim. To carry this gift within me is the challenge I must take up in order to pass the bleak periods with grace and dignity. The ultimate harvest.

(c)2014 Shobha Vanchiswar

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“What A Wonderful World”

Posted on October 28, 2014 by shobha

“I see fields of green
Red roses too … “– Louis Armstrong

Every muscle in my body aches. Even in a state of rest, supine in bed, I feel the pain. There is no inclination whatsoever to rise and meet the day. A slight move elicits a big wince. I’m willing to forgo coffee and brushing my teeth – its simply too much effort to get up. I’m well past being embarrassed by my admission. No, I’m not unwell. I’ve been planting bulbs. Hundreds of them. One by one because they go between already established plants and other older bulbs. Every autumn I endure this ordeal. Every year I question my sanity. And every spring I am so ridiculously ecstatic to see the explosion of bulbs lighting up the garden.

There are still more bulbs to plant but for those, I’m recruiting the help of my family. They have been given no choice. Threats, guilt trips and bribery work well. I highly recommend those measures. I’m too sore to be nice. Rest assured I’ll return to nice after the body has forgotten its present trauma.

The other fall garden chores are also well underway. Cutting back and clean up, leaf raking, pruning, lawn reseeding, getting pots of tender perennials and tropicals into the greenhouse, planting new perennials and shrubs, pruning, cleaning and putting away outdoor furniture, the list goes on. Its exhaustive and exhausting. Then why do we gardeners punish ourselves repeatedly?

Because we must. It makes us happy. Keeps us in balance. It helps us make sense of this complicated, amazing world. Creating a beautiful, productive garden is our calling. As a result, other people appreciate us for our equanimity.

In post-bulb planting repose, I’ve had time to contemplate this horticultural preoccupation. Connecting so directly with nature as one does when gardening has rewards that cannot be matched by almost any other activity. Humans need green spaces. Our survival depends on it. Its not just for our food but our general well being. Since time immemorial, cultures everywhere have promoted the benefits of working or being in nature. At some level we have understood this need. There is no argument against the compulsion we have to seek our rest and recreation outdoors. It simply is.

Bad moods are banished after a turn in the garden or a walk in the park. Learning from personal experience, I’ve often dealt with the resident teenager’s age-appropriate histrionics by slyly getting her to do garden chores like weeding and watering. Her initial complaints, loud as they are, mean nothing to me. The child that returns indoors is invariably a transformed one.

I recently had to go out of town and was put up in a ‘resort’ of sorts. This place was vast – two thousand rooms, a large conference center, a full spa facility, seventeen restaurants, multiple shops, even a ‘riverboat cruise’ in a man-made ‘river’ that covered 4.5 acres. It had gardens, waterfalls and fountains. And all of this enormous complex was completely roofed over! There were well concealed vents that blew air to simulate a breeze. I found this place terribly disorienting. I was supposed to feel like I was outside but was instead in a bizarre world indoors. Most significantly, the painstakingly created gardens lacked vitality. After all, where were the sounds and activities of the birds, bees and butterflies? Where was that distinctly earthy aroma assuring me that worms and microbes were busy at work? These gardens of living, mostly tropical plants might as well have been fake. My mind and my heart could not, would not accept this make-believe world. There was no fooling them. It was a very unsettling experience. Like a newly caged bird, I got anxious and couldn’t wait to break free.

Lately, researchers have studied the benefits of green spaces. The anecdotal has moved to the scientific. More credible that way. Several studies have concluded what gardeners already knew – there is no doubt that spending some time in nature everyday considerably improves our health – mentally, physically and emotionally.

One study found that living with green spaces has a long-lasting positive influence on people’s mental well-being. Compared to the short term boost from pay rises and promotions, the positive effect from being in nature has a sustained, long term impact. Levels of anxiety and depression were reduced. The findings appear in the journal of Environmental Science and Technology. What is seen is that even after three years, mental health is still better which is unlike many of the other things that we think will make us happy.

So coming back to my current status of muscles in agony and reluctance to move, I admit that my spirits are high, my mood is upbeat and I’m already planning future projects in the garden. I’m also harboring the fantasy that the aforementioned body parts will shed fat, get toned and move like they used to twenty years ago. Thats the other thing – gardeners are huge dreamers.

Enjoy the images of New York City getting into the Halloween spirit:

(c)2014 Shobha Vanchiswar
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Spirituality Through Astrology, Meditation and Yoga!

Posted on October 7, 2014 by shobha

That proclamation was on a sign I saw alongside a highway this past weekend. It got me thinking about the times we are in. There is a growing need for something to center our hearts and settle our minds. Perhaps a quest for guidance has always prevailed amongst us humans but, in this high-speed digital age we are busier than ever. Swept in the tide of Instagrams, Facebook friends, messages confined to 144 characters, reachable via phone round the clock, we are searching for lifesavers to keep us afloat and present. Its interesting isn’t it that as our lives have increasingly adapted to all the technology, the enrollment in yoga studios has also increased? Massage and meditation are as mainstream as the live streaming we indulge in. With technology changing even as it hastens us forward, we seem to be looking to more enduring, ancient practices to keep us anchored. Time to step back and examine our course you think?

Frankly, I think the garden is the perfect place to find spirituality. And that sign could be tacked on the gate to any such place of horticulture. Patience, kindness, generosity and tolerance are cultivated here. Waiting for plants to grow, creating an environment that welcomes birds, butterflies and bees, sharing, receiving and exchanging seeds, plants and produce, working with weather patterns and pests both large and small, are all instructive. Life lessons that expose us to joy, laughter, loss, birth, regeneration, recycling are taught continuously in the garden. If you are not present, you miss the many miracles that take place in the garden every single day. Being mindful becomes the hallmark of a seasoned gardener.

The varied chores demanded in tending a garden, keep the body active. Bending, lifting, reaching are par for the course. Muscles exercised, joints kept from getting stiff, a day in the garden yields a dose of endorphins that satisfy as much and more than a workout in the gym. There’s a well conditioned body plus a garden to show for it! Of course, neither garden nor health club can guarantee a perfect body or eternal youth but then, thats life isn’t it? There are no guarantees.

If you’ve ever spent time weeding, digging or planting a bed, you know how focused you get. Paying attention forces one to tune out the chatter in the head. By the time the task is done, more than the garden has been transformed. There is certain clearing of the mind and a lifting of the mood. Thats what meditation achieves. Mindfulness creates clarity of thought and purpose.

Gardeners follow the seasons, the quotidian arc of the sun and the gravitational pull of the moon. Weather patterns influence our work as much as it affects our spirit. We apply science, folklore and an occasional dab of superstition. Astrology anyone?!

Tending the land is as ancient a practice as it can get and it is the best therapy by far. I firmly believe that if every human on earth nurtured a garden, we’d be too busy reaping the many rewards of this preoccupation to wage wars, mistreat animals, tolerate rudeness or watch bad television.
Sometimes, I wonder if gardening informs my life or if life informs my gardening.

Check out Happenings to find out about the Rocky Hills talk Oct 18 and the two art shows I’m participating in this month.

Enjoy the varied gardens below:

(c)2014 Shobha Vanchiswar
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Still In Love!

Posted on September 9, 2014 by shobha

Almost two years ago, I fell in love with Untermyer Gardens. See Love At First Sight for an account of that visit. I’d been intending to go back but somehow, busy schedules and events got in the way until this past Saturday. To say I was excited about returning to Untermyer would be a gross understatement. Still, a part of me bore some trepidation. Would I be just as enchanted?

This year, the gardens have received some mega-watt press coverage – well deserved due recognition. I am privileged to call head horticulturist, gardener extraordinaire and just downright nice guy Timothy Tilghman a dear friend. So I tend to follow closely all commentaries made about his work.

By arriving a couple of hours before sunset, the light, in my opinion, was just right for viewing and photographing. Predicted rain storms were nowhere in sight. The temperatures had dropped so it was no longer unbearably hot as it had been earlier in the day. All in all, perfect conditions for wandering in the gardens. Timothy awaited our small group with an eagerness only one who genuinely loves his job can muster at the end of a long work day.

As is customary, one begins with the pièce de résistance – the walled garden. Approaching the tall doorway, one immediately spies the main axis of the Indo-Persian design of the garden. And your breath catches. The canal of flowing water glimmers with the fractured reflections of the colors of a brilliant sunset. But these hues are not from the sky. They are from the riot of marigolds growing exuberantly on either side of the canal’s length. Imagine, marigolds! That lowly, gas-station staple was given center stage in this important space. Interspersed by Japanese holly and off set to the sides with rectangles of green lawn, the marigolds shone bright. Positively sophisticated. The juxtaposition of the ordinary flowers within the formality of the design was a stroke of artistic genius. Timothy and Marco Polo Stufano (of Wave Hill Gardens fame and my hero plantsman) had come up with the idea of marigolds – inexpensive, hardworking, effective and true to the required Indian provenance.

Marigolds are widely used in India – one sees them in abundance. Edging garden borders, filling up pots, fat garlands adorning temples, wedding halls, new cars, new houses and, anywhere a celebration is taking place. Growing up, I never paid much attention to the marigold. It was so ubiquitous. The fragrance of the plant is imprinted in my olfactory memory. In my garden in the northeastern US, it has never crossed my mind to plant marigolds. Too out of place and definitely not the right colors.

Now, here they were. Thousands of flowers used in a different way all together. Similarly colored cannas in pots continued the theme. Arrangements of other potted tropicals distinctive in their foliage added to the whole composition. The perennial borders along the perimeter of the gardens contrast beautifully with the annual display. Here one ( okay, me) picks up many ideas for plants to add to one’s own garden. Not as flamboyant but just as expressive, the plants strike a very nice chord.

I could’ve spent all my time in this garden alone. I was feeling my roots! But Timothy had much to show us. Future plans and projects were discussed and pointed out as we hiked the property, exploring ruins of past gardens, lingering in the Temple Of Love and envisioning the waterfalls flowing once again, imagining the thousands of daffodils on the ‘hill’. Pausing now and then to gaze at the Hudson river and the Palisades across. I was even more convinced of the importance of bringing all of the Untermyer gardens to life. Not simply restored but renewed. In keeping with history but also giving it voice to make more history. Timothy and his small team are more than up to the monumental task, its the funding that eludes. Sigh.

We remained till the sun set. Watching it, I was struck by our visit, just as I’d been two years ago – it had been magical. I felt a deep sense of gratitude to Timothy for giving the world this marigold summer. How utterly enriched we are.

As you look at the images below, I hope you will make it a point to visit Untermyer Gardens, Yonkers, NY. Free to the public! If you see Timothy, tell him I sent you. I can’t wait to see what annuals he will choose next year.

The Walled Garden

View from the entrance

View towards entrance from amphitheater

A sample of the many mosaics

Out of the Walled-Garden!

Looking back up.

The Temple Of Love

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In Nature’s Grace

Posted on September 2, 2014 by shobha

Every once in a while, we have all experienced something that has felt extraordinary and surreal. Most often, these moments occur unexpectedly and yet, seem so fitting. Like omens or signs that inform us of the good and beauty in our lives and inspire us to do better. A spectacular sunset at the end of a long, hard day, a rainbow following a storm, the first time your baby’s fingers curl around your own. This past Saturday, I was graced with just such a serendipitous event.

There we were, a small group, enjoying the good weather in a friend’s beautiful garden. Over cocktails and small bites, summer trips and other doings were shared. Amidst much laughter and a general sense of well-being, we were in a blissful state of mind. This moment was as good as it gets. And then, the moment got exalted. A hummingbird chose to join us.

It flitted mostly between two pots of pink petunias situated quite close to where we were seated. Apparently unconcerned by our proximity, it permitted us to observe up close. I was in awe of how intimately I could watch it. Normally so quick to move and with fast beating wings blurring one’s vision, hummingbirds, have in the past, proved rather elusive. This was magical.

Not quite able to believe my good fortune, I went crazy with my camera. And still had time to simply watch and admire. That dainty, jewel toned bird hung around for very long. It then surprised us even further as it alighted on one particular member of our group. Twice. Whether it was because her pink pants or white shirt looked like the nearby petunias, who is to know. It still seemed as though she had been specifically anointed.

A little research later on explained that hummingbirds are not afraid of humans and. But I cannot think that what I’d been witness to was so ordinary. For a while there, we forgot ourselves and marveled at one of nature’s ethereal wonders. Our universal delight connected us together even further. Suddenly, we opened up more and got to discussing more personal philosophies. Each of us felt the value of the experience and were a bit transformed for the better. I was reminded once again that I’m divinely privileged to share this Earth with so many wondrous species. We are constantly surrounded by beauty but every now and then, Nature nudges us to truly pay attention. Life is fleeting, be present.

In my research, I came across this: Hummingbirds symbolize great courage, determination, flexibility and adaptability.
Those who have the hummingbird as a totem are invited to enjoy the sweetness of life, lift up negativity wherever it creeps in and express love more fully in their daily endeavors.
I have no idea what my totems are but, I’m perfectly willing to take up the above invitation. Only good can come of doing so.

It is my hope that in sharing the images below, the same good feelings and intentions are passed on to you:

(c)2014 Shobha Vanchiswar

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No Summer Whine Served Here

Posted on August 26, 2014 by shobha

We are in the last week of August and although the official end of summer is still a few weeks away, these days before school reopens seems like the last call of the season. Sigh. One feels the tug of reality and the obligation to get back to serious, grown-up life. The most carefree months of the year are over.

The days are getting shorter and the early morning air carries with it a sharp, cool edge. Nature is in the process of a wardrobe change for her next gig. She gives herself time to move from one to another. Time to decompress and time to get ready. I take my cue from her and go into transition mode. I’m using this week to get myself centered. Its been a good summer. Not because the garden looked spectacular but because I paid attention and learned from it. I let go of trying to be in control and allowed matters to evolve as they may. I spent more time being present in the garden and enjoying its beauteous bounty than I did tending to the myriad chores. With or without my efforts, the garden went about growing, blooming, fruiting. So things were far from impeccable but who noticed? There was enough to delight the senses and distract any critical mind.

This year, I am satisfied with my own engagement with the season. I managed to strike a good balance between working in the garden and playing in it. And I collected abundant good memories along the way. So, now that autumn is right around the corner, I’m getting set to transit. While the weeding is addressed and plans are being drawn up in preparation for fall tasks, I’m still getting immense pleasure in the way the white hydrangeas glow at dusk. As I bite into a freshly picked fig and my fingers get sticky from its sweet syrup, I block off days in October for bulb planting. My bare feet caress the mosses carpeting the ground shaded by the tree house even as I make a list of plants to introduce in the meadow before the cold sets in.

The fruit will be harvested, the last of the vegetables consumed, newly made jams and sauces canned. But for now, I’ll recall the highlights of my summer and relive the moments of wonder and laughter. Thats plenty. More than one dares to ask for oneself. And then, I’ll be ready to move into fall. Will you?
Here are some glimpses of my summer – away from the garden: