Monday will be my one-month anniversary in North Carolina. I wonder what I can say that is unique and interesting, since my experiences are not unusual. But they are mine, that makes them unique.

I have lived in this rental house for almost a month, and until this morning, I never sat on the deck, the deck that overlooks a pond, a pond that is surrounded by trees, trees that sway and dance as the wind catches, a pond that shimmers as the same wind brushes lightly across the surface, the same wind that ruffles the feathers of the blue heron on the far side of the pond, the wind that brings a flock of geese, geese that bleat once as a kind of prelanding final check, legs down and locked, wings fully extended, on the glideslope, 18 webbed feet all slam into the water simultaneously, a splash, a carrier landing, and then silence. Oh yes, except the wind. And the cars, which are filtered out of my hearing.

I have been here for a month and not seen. I have been here for a month and I have not done 1/10th of my plans, I have not started my book, I have not read my physics textbook, I have not written that article I promised, I have not lifted weights an hour a day, I have not unpacked, I have not moved in. I have watched my house grow organically from the ground, by a dozen workmen who have accents straight out of 'Junebug', two of who cackle with glee when I bring honey by. They love honey. Honey loves them. Well, honey loves anybody that pets her. But perhaps they do not know that.

A house that in numbers is modest, but in appearance is anything but. It sits on a rise in the ground, around a bend where it is first hidden from view, and then makes its appearance, the garage much larger than it really is because it is so close before you can first see the whole house. It bothers me, its appearance. Perhaps, once surrounded by an army of plants, interesting plants, colorful plants, and yes, even some trees, it will fit in, pretend to be one with nature as a bear tries to hide in a flock of ballerinas.

I wonder if I will fit in. Few people I meet have a strong accent, so my midwest tang I believe is no real barrier. But, there is one issue that makes it difficult here. It seems like everyone in North Carolina is a gardener. Everyone I have met knows plants, knows gardens, has opinions, and expects that everyone else speaks that language. I do not. The local newspaper has a daily section called home and garden. But it is usually about the latter.  I feel as I felt in Spain, completely cut off due to my inability to understand Spanish, unable to comprehend what even a Spanish child hears and comprehends without a moments thought.

I never dreamed of living in North Carolina. I always imagined myself in some rugged western state, a cabin in the woods, a satellite dish plugging me into the infosphere. But here I am, a state with character, a state with history, a state with relationships, and complexity. I feel sometimes like this is where I was supposed to wind up. I just didn’t know it until now.

--Brand

Comments

[JB]

Yes, gardening is truly a southern thing. And it comes in many forms….

There’s the obsession with a beautifully manicured lawn using a grass seed appropriately named “Rebel.” There’s vegetable gardening which now, after the spinach scare, may even become even more popular. There’s the flower gardening. And of course there’s even the container gardening for those w/o a yard to putter about in. And last, perhaps my favorite, is the bird garden.

Maybe gardening is just in a true Southerner’s blood. The South was built upon our plantations and agriculture business while the North was predominantly industry. We learned just the right coaxing it takes to bring forth life out of the red clay of our North Carolina soil at the knee of our grandmothers…or better yet, maybe on our knees pulling weeds when we were young children! Up until the most recent generation most every good Southern family had a little garden in the back of the house or just down the road for our summer tomatoes and fall collard greens.

We were taught by our grandmothers that no greater friendship could be forged than to give our new friends a cutting, a seed, a root or a bulb of a family heirloom plant to place in their garden. We prize and treasure our plants highly. I remember several summers ago when my maternal grandmother died, before the house was sold, we dug up all the plants and moved them to friends and family. Not a pleasant task in the dead of the heat and humidity of July. My aunt made sure that heirloom plants that my paternal grandmother had given my maternal grandmother were give to me. I didn’t like those plants then, but I love them today. We also moved her pride and joy. A row of peonies that had been documented there for over 100 years. I admire them every spring in my garden when they literally burst into bloom from a tightly formed ball into such a lovely fluffy mass of whiteness. But maybe in the propagation of these plants just a little bit of each us will live on and be remembered?

There’s nothing more uplifting than to walk around the corner of my porch and see several little yellow finches enjoying the seeds of my purple cone flowers in the front yard. And nothing more frustrating than to see poison ivy poking its leaves out of a bed of flowers!

Yes, Brand, gardening is an important part of living in North Carolina. I think a great many folks take up gardening in hopes the soil beneath their nails will help them acclimate to our Southerness and be accepted. In fact, we even call the newbees to our area, ‘transplants’…a typical gardening term. Gardening makes us slow down or else the weeds will take over.

You see, gardening is quite unpredictable. It takes time, energy, effort and hope to produce results….and patience. Just like moving.

And we Southerners have patience! Just listen to us talk as we stretch out the words and sprinkle in a few extra vowels. We believe if we nurture, it will grow! We have learned from gardening not to hurry…take life as it comes…and most importantly, enjoy it.

I think you will fit in. And I am happy to give you a few Peony roots so you can celebrate the tradition of gardening with a perennial who thrives on it’s own.

[Liz]

Brand -
Looks like we cleared more than the deck that morning. Milestones are useful in that they help us see where we are - ahead or behind or right on target (who is EVER right on target!) Anyway, good to see you writing again. It may not always feel like you are, but I think you are making excellent progress assimilating yourself to this new life of yours.
- Liz