I call this flower blossom Kamala. It is not what it is called. It is named after an old friend who gave it to me. Long ago we both had little children only ages four and five. We would go to her house and talk about mothering, making, gardening, food, cooking, social justice, building, alternative schools, community building and friendship. She would come to my house too. We made things when she came over here. We would go on nature walks and explore the local area and find out of the way places to bring our children. We had so much fun. We had so many adventures.

One day Kamala brought me this plant. It is bright yellow just like her bright smile. I have always had it growing here for decades now. It fills with bright yellow pompoms every early summer time and blooms up until even now. A frost is coming tonight and most likely the world will look different in the morning. Life is like that. Things look one way one moment - different the next. One day Kamala had to go away. She went to live in India where her mother was from.

The tale I tell is filled with great stories. But, one day Kamala came back here and lived in the house she herself grew up in. She had lost here young daughter during that time she was away - Anika was her name. When we met up again our conversation was just as it had always been. Filled with so much curiosity and learning and love and pain. Kamala died a few years ago now. I had always thought we would grow to be old ladies together and sit and remember all of our stories in our lives. We would drink tea and just sit quietly - not really needing to say anything. We’d listen to the birds. We would marvel at the world. Our hearts would break together over the hurt that can consume us. I miss her very much. I still have my Kamala flowers.

Daffodil Bulbs

The temperature has dropped down into the 50’s Fahrenheit today here in my corner of the world in southern New England. It is looking like it will go down into the low 40’s tonight. It isn’t freezing yet although, there was some frosty dew laying down on parts of the property this morning. Cold in October means it is time to plant more bulbs. I picked up some bulbs a few weeks ago to plant. I have been planting bulbs in the woods and the edges and out of the way places in the wood over these past years.

Bulbs

We planted about 35 bulbs in the woods by edge of the driveway and next to an area that I began planting after my mother passed away two years ago. She did like daffodils very much. I plan to plant daffodils every year for her. It makes me so glad to see them pop up in the spring and also makes me feels a bit melancholy thinking of her. Life is hard like that sometimes. Our hearts are so big - they can hold both kinds of feelings all at once. Planting treasured plants in a loved one’s honor is a kind thing to do.

So, after we planted the bulbs we purchased - I decided to divide up some daffodil bulbs that have been here next to the house foundation since we have lived here. They have never been divided - so today was the day to dig up those clumps of daffodil bulbs and bring them to other places. It turns out a very small couple of clumps of daffodil bulbs was actually 400 bulbs once they were divided! The below photos don’t really show the sheer amount that came out of the small clumps of daffodils that have bloomed here every year. I would lament getting them dug up every year and never found the time to do it. It was almost passed over again today. It is absolutely amazing how many bulbs were needing division.

200 Bulbs

We can be a bit like those clumps of daffodils hiding under the surface of the soil. Each year passing by as we in the underneath of ourselves maybe are left somewhat untended. Things can proliferate unchecked. It is a good thing to dig into the soil of ourselves and find what needs tending. What do we need to divide and conquer? We could find some pieces that need cutting out and spread to other places.

I do like how gardening - planting - tending brings me metaphors to pay attention to. Even if it is unheeded - a growth lesson can be found for the taking. Those bulbs have been blooming for 3 decades. Each year showing up. Before that they most likely were blooming after being planted by the very old woman who lived here before us. She lived to be 100 years old. Despite our never dividing the bulbs they still brought their yellow smiling faces each year for us to enjoy. I had some lamentation over how many bulbs there would be now - if only we had divided them. Such is life. We get to things when we get to them. There is not much use in regret in the long run.

300 bulbs

After all was said and done there were about 400 bulbs in the division of labor. A bag load and a box load of new bulbs to spread around. Daffodil bulbs to tuck into secret places and surprise corners to be forgotten about until next springtime. I can’t wait to see them push through the soil in the warmth of a sunny spring day. I am certain many others have said this - planting these bulbs in the ground is an expression of hope for another year of life. I wish my Mom could see them all blooming here in her honor. She probably knows.

Photo by Kavita Joshi Rai