Teachable Moments

Some people learn easily while
for others learning takes time,
even while some never learn at all.
I learned to love gardening, to
cherish the art of planting, primping
and pruning, rapt in the magical
beauty that results. Nature generously
accepts the studious efforts of her pupils
to advance her own gardening agenda,
but she detests hubris; therefore indulges
in lessons inspired to awe as well as
humble her apprentices. Knowing
how much nature abhors a vacuum I
tend to plant exuberantly, crowding
spaces to foil nature's penchant for
planting her beloved weeds. My
springtime planting orgy concluded, I
heave a satisfied sigh at the splendid
garden of tender annuals, lovely in
their fresh appeal and summer-long
promise of never-ending blooms.
Mild, sunny weather beckoned and I
responded with an unwary gardener's
zeal. Knowing full well of treacherous
betrayals. Best not to gamble on
outsmarting the weather, one of nature's
many executive assistants, alert to her
call. She is the master planter, after all,
from whom the alert and clever learn,
bowing to her infallible wisdom. She
has the last word, always, forever.
Among gardeners that last word is
dreaded, far more powerful in its
evil intent than mere naughty four-letter
words. That word is nature's profound
reproof to the arrogance of those
spurning the knowledge to be gleaned
completing the gardener's learning curve
and matriculating the course with honours
as a bona-fide gardener in recognition of
and patience with the curse of frost.