The noise exacerbates how hot & bothered I feel - the sound of summer at the peak of the heat.
I am surprised again by my January emotions. The sky shines bright blue and yet, a black cloud hovers above my shoulders.
Heavy.
I want to run away from home.
The sight of happy summer holiday photos all over social media doesn’t help. All cool in the pools and the clear blue sea. Relaxing and having fun. It seems the whole world is on holidays except us. We’re slogging away - it’s my husband’s busiest time of year and for gardeners - we’re flat out keeping up with watering and weeding.
The weeds always get away from me. By February I want to throw in the trowel.
Moving to a suburban block with synthetic grass sounds appealing.
I remember now - it’s like this every year.
SAD - Seasonal Affective Disorder.
It’s a thing for me in Summer - not Winter like the Northern Hemisphere. I wilt and wither - especially in the humidity. I am in awe of women on the land, tradies and farmers who have no choice but to don their hats and get out into the work day. The needs of animals, crops and clients just don’t wait for a cool change.
Having to work in the heat sure takes some getting used to. I’m no early bird. I prefer to be out in the garden at the end of the day when the sun dips and work until it’s too dark to see anymore. I loathe the thought of stepping on a cane toad - or worse, something slithery.
The Secret Garden feels more like the rambly jungle described in the fairy tale of Sleeping Beauty.
A tangle of overgrown plants crowding each other and jostling for space.
Leggy and languising after busily flowering and fruiting.
I need to make tough decisions about what to cut back and cull but it’s hard to know what to sacrifice and where to start. It feels overwhelming,especially on a hot day. Once I begin, I get on a roll and don’t want to come inside. It’s the starting. The decision making. Non-decisioning is paralyzing.
We wander around in aimless circles don’t we? Unproductive in our paralysis.
I guess the Secret Garden was overgrown when Mary first discovered it. She worked hard, taming the chaos and coaxing the beauty back. It is discouraging when you pull something into gear and then it gets away again. It’s a job to stay on top of it.
To maintain some semblance of order to cultivate beauty is a discipline.
At least it hasn't been a soggy summer yet here. A few scuds and showers but not heavy rain. It's actually quite dry but I'm not complaining.
The thought of flooding rain again is more than we could bear, especially for Brisbanites.
Perhaps that’s why it’s hard to cope - we’re not used to this heat and humidity up here in the mountains. You would get used to it over time, but the temperatures fluctuate so randomly, it takes us by surprise.
The beach is calling me. That longing for the sea is getting stronger as summer stretches ahead for yet another month. I don’t necessarily want to be on holidays. I just want to be cool. Immersed in clear blue water.
And yet if we leave for too long, responsibilities are neglected and treasured plants I’ve tended to so carefully suffer.
Perhaps we can make a different plan this time next year.
Meanwhile - Autumn’s on its way.
