It is barely May, yet the tender greens of Spring have given way to the rich colors of Summer. The mighty oak that shelters the cottage from the burning rays of the sun sways contentedly back and forth in the gentle breeze. Great bumblebees amble among the fading honeysuckle blooms, humming their contentment. The birds bustle here and there. Hatching time is over and half-grown chicks shrill their demand for food to their busy parents.
I seem to be caught up in the frenzy around me. I have so many projects to do and I feel as if they all must be done right away. My tomato plants are large and sturdy, begging to be put into beds that haven't been constructed yet. The stone steps to the front door wait to be set in place and the laundry area is an unfinished corner in the bedroom. And still I am gathering information, weaving different lifestyle elements into the tapestry of self-sufficiency I see so clearly in my mind's eye.
I have been so busy I almost didn't notice that one of the first loving tasks I perfomed at our cottage was bearing fruit. Well, in any case, flowers. The roses have burst forth in trembling, adolescent glory. Sweet blossoms, wreathed in pink and cream, nod on one side of the porch while the other side is host to a wilder combination of orange and hot pink. I'm a bit perplexed about this as the flowers are supposed to be of the same variety. Yet the very fact that I nearly missed this important event tells me I need to slow down. Everything does not need to be done at once. The steps are not important, the whole garden bed does not need to be planted this year, and the laundry area will be done in it's own time.
It would truly be a shame to miss this journey in pursuit of the destination.