If you’ve been following my last few blogs, you know that this is the time of year I’m particularly fascinated by the finches working the seeds out of the Rudbeckia and Echinacea seed-heads in my garden. Bobbing and swaying at the end of the stalk, they’re undeterred from their attraction to the seeds tucked into the drying seed-heads.
Many of the finches working tirelessly in my gardens this time of year are migratory – stopping to visit my gardens as they journey south. The seeds they coax from my garden are catching a ride through the air, beginning a journey south. They’ll fall on new ground, and find root in new soil, and transform themselves into a new plant in the season of warmth that’ll be coming soon.
It was a beautiful growing season this year. The Rudbeckia grew well, working hard to create buds that would transform into flowers that would attract bees, in turn transforming into ripe seed-heads to attract birds. And now, the garden has done all it can do, and the seeds are handed off to the finches. The journey toward transformation begins.
I saw my oldest son off on a great adventure this week. We flew to LA together, then shared a few beers at the airport while we waited for our next flights. When we parted – he for his gate that would take him to off to Southeast Asia, and me to my gate that would take me up to San Francisco to work for the week – we hugged each other and said goodbye, then walked our separate ways. I stopped after a few steps, and looked back to watch him walk away, till he turned a corner and was gone from my sight. I turned, and walked toward my gate.
I was glad I’d kept my eyes dry as we said goodbye, but I wasn’t able to keep them dry as I walked to my gate. The wet eyes came from pride at the bright and hard-working man he’s become, from shared excitement over his coming adventure, a little from the worry that every father must feel, and just a tiny bit for the loss I feel already at having him so far away from me.
All he’s done in his life to this point has been preparation for this adventure. Like the Rudbeckia plant that worked hard all summer to prepare itself for the finch, he’s worked hard to prepare himself for this moment of transformation. As I write these words, and the finches carry the Rudbeckia seeds south to new soil, his flight across the Pacific takes him to new lands in far-away places, to take root emerge again as the ongoing evolution of who he is becoming.
How often do we look at the life we lead and the seasons within that life as a continuum of growing seasons – where part of each season is the preparation and ripening of our “self†for our next journey of transformation? When the finches come looking for the seeds of transformation, will we have prepared them? If so, will we hand those seeds over and open the doors to new soil, or turn our heads down and hide from the opportunity to take wing and become again?
NOTE: Thanks to Tony Pratt for photographs
