Nocturnal Garden

As I get older I find that I wake at times during the night and let my mind wander. Or maybe it wanders of its own volition?

In any case I liken the experience to being in a garden where my past experiences, thoughts and dreams are growing in various states of vigor.

My garden is quite large as it holds flowers, fruits and bushes from over the years. In one corner I might find pleasant childhood memories waiting to be re-lived, in another there are images of Army experiences and in yet another might be memories of a more recent vintage. Here and there mixed all through the garden are weeds.

My consciousness sometimes seems to take the form of a butterfly, flitting from flower to flower. Spending more time on a particularly beautiful memory and perhaps a little less on a good, but less appealing flower.

My butterfly self seems to be adept at finding and feeding on the good and beautiful memories from across the spectrum of years. One minute I'll be smelling and feeling backyard dirt as I build highways and bridges and operate my truck as a five-year-old boy playing make believe with pieces of wood and pinecones. In another instant I am rowing a boat on Cascade Lake trolling for rainbow trout or as a man fishing for salmon on Ray's boat out of Kitimat, BC, and in yet another I am an older man hauling in Dungeness Crab out of Birch Bay.

Sometimes, through no apparent control of my own, my butterfly transforms into a bee, or a swarm of bees, buzzing from memory to memory, noisily bringing up things I'd rather forget. The bees know where to find the weeds in my garden. Sometimes their noise becomes so loud I think my wife and even others in the neighborhood can hear.

Earplugs do no good but sometimes I move downstairs to my recliner where my little dog can hear and empathize. He jumps up and sleeps lying across my thighs where his presence drives off the bees. Sometimes it takes him awhile but eventually he chases them away and what a relief it is.

I take care with my garden, cultivating, watering and fertilizing the good flowers and fruits and starving the weeds. I encourage the butterfly to find the best flowers and refresh itself.

The bees I try to keep locked in their hive in a dark corner. Most of the time that strategy works but sometimes they come swarming out to make their noise. Come on little dog! Help me get these bees back in their hive.

Another interesting inhabitant of my garden is the humming bird. It's a beautiful iridescent little thing that seems to have the ability to discriminate between good and bad without having actually to experience the thing itself. He hovers over an attractive flower or weed or even evil fruit, debates whether to feed or not and seems to make rational choices before moving on seeking something better, or different.

I like the hummingbird because he works with me on keeping things under control in the garden. His gaze seems approving when he hovers over a nice flower. The flower becomes even more beautiful under his approving look. When he flies up close to a weed it wilts and sometimes shrivels and dies under his disapproving stare.

I like to work hand in wing with my hummingbird to make my nighttime garden excursions pleasant and relaxing.

If only I could find a way to keep those bees in their hive. . .