“So, let’s see the damages.”
The tail end of an intense tropical storm was quite unkind to our rural neighborhood. Chimneys had fallen, rooftops torn, windows broken, trees felled and uprooted, and there was water everywhere.
Walking about the property with my husband, I watched the adjuster scribbling pages upon pages, adding and subtracting, and sketching as she went along.
“You have no flood insurance for the inside water damage but we’ll see what we can do to help. Whatever is not covered by your policy could possibly be covered by federal funds.”
The basement was flooded and about five inches of water pooled on the first floor. Furniture and appliances were damaged, there was a giant tear in the roof, and the chimney was toppled.
“You’re lucky. Most of this out here is wind damage and we can cover at least eighty percent of it.”
We were relieved to hear a bit of good news.
“Call for an estimate on the repairs, have the contractors call me, and I’ll have papers filed for you and a check issued within five working days.”
Thanking her for her kindness and concern, we understood that lifelong memories damaged by environmental factors could never be replaced. We needed to accept that. It was difficult.
Another day passed. Everyone’s property looked, well, it looked like a hurricane hit! What a mess! I, for one, didn’t want to go outside.
We cleaned up what we could by hand over the next couple of days. Wet, muddied carpets were rolled up and taken to the dump. Irreparable furniture and storm- drenched memories sadly were tossed out. Windows were opened, with fans placed everywhere, despite the September chill. All the neighbors tried to help each other as we could.
The garden was rather soggy and despite wind damage, all seemed fine.
The old barn was none the worse for wear. A few side slats were blown off and some roof shingles. We could repair that ourselves and put that money toward a new TV or clothes dryer. There was a lot of figuring out to do.
Coming toward the south garden’s pond, I couldn’t believe the sight. All of the fish lay dead on the wet ground!
“Poor Merlin…you didn’t deserve this…Isis…Morgan…Odin...Kali…all of you…I’m so sorry…if I had known it was going to be this devastating. Frogs, where are you?”
“Let’s go in now.” said my husband. “There’s no more we can do here.”
“Wait, I need to bury my friends.”
It was a difficult task. I raised the frilled shebunkins(1) for over five years, through Spring into Winter. Somehow we always made it - together. Until now. I bid farewell to each one as I buried them deep beneath the earth.
The frogs were in hiding beneath a damp rock. They were all safe and sound, chirping and croaking beneath the rising Moon.
Reaching across the puddle of water, which was left in the pond, I retrieved the crucible(2) in which my Sacred Lotus, “Tulsi”(3), had been planted many years ago. Of all the plants and trees in the neighborhood, ‘she’ was everyone’s favorite. “Tulsi” was the type of plant that had visitors every day during growing season - she was a natural wonder to watch.
“But where could she be?
“Come on.” said my husband again. “We’ll look for her in the morning.”
This was the first night of the Barley Moon(4) and She
shed enough light for me to look for my enchanted plant. I looked everywhere.
“The wind probably took her away.”
My husband urged me to come into the house.
The insurance check came, repairs were made, and all was back on track again.
Summer ended and, ‘sit-spot’, Autumn appeared, quickly turning toward the Winter’s deep longing for Spring.
The Sun began to warm the earth with His Springtime vigor. It was time to set up the pond and the gardens once again. A season of awakening, Mother Nature danced with excitement. I was dispirited, a bit unsettled.
“We work so hard, with Heaven’s help, to make things god-like for ourselves and then Nature’s storms come, taking all away too quickly.”
I did not feel like starting over again.
The Spring before, as I blew away the ghosts of a Winter past, my special golden and speckled fish were waiting for me and the water plants were beginning to sprout. This year, nothing….
“Tulsi” would have been budding her new leaves. The spot she once delighted in was a huge void.
I looked into the blackened muck and saw a small glassy pool of melted King Winter remaining at the bottom of the once lush, lively pond. I tried to envision her blushing grace in that bit of cloudless crystal…I saw but a glimpse of her - ruby blossoms - and her visage was gone.
“Hang on to the memories!”
The only sound I could muster was a huge sigh.
Building up the pond again and constructing dreams of a glorious Summer would be a task. I needed to do it alone. This area of the yard is what I had liked to call ‘mine’. A little bit of heaven right here with me ~ Mother Nature’s special gifts surrounding our home.
I wanted to be alone with bright memories of happy days spent sitting on the pond’s edge, ‘making wishes with fishes’ that always came true.
I allowed another week to pass and I decided once-and- for-all I’d better get to work.
The landscaping looked quite shabby so I thought I would start there.
I started my work away from the pond, toward the fence where the trumpet vine was beginning to green.
While trimming off ice damaged branches, I hand tilled and mulched as I went along. All the little grubs and earthworms were beginning to stir while spiders played on the drier ground, spinning a silvery web across the overturned birdbath.
My husband offered his help. At first I hesitated. It was my wish…
~to see…Fish jumping at insects and playfully giving permission to me to splash with them before feeding time - such beautiful friends they were! The purple blossoms of the water hyacinth…tiny fairy moss turning red in the sunshine…watching tadpoles grow up! The waterfall…fountain…wishes and moonlight…sunshine, yellow hornets and maple-colored wasps….blue dragonflies, speckled Monarchs, flickering fireflies…swooping ducks…sparrows tumbling in from the edge of the birdbath…refreshing breezes…sweet scents of the season’s flowers…and “Tulsi”, my honored lotus…~
“Hang on to the memories!”
I gave in…my husband started working in the area to the left of the pond and the work was getting done quickly over the span of a few days. We were about four feet away from each other, going toward the back of the pond on our fourth day………
“Wait!” “Wait!” “Don’t dig…don’t move!”
I vaulted to where my husband was standing, breaking a toe in the process.
There, rising from the storm churned, winter ravaged earth was the frilled edge of a red flower. With my bare hands and tear clouded eyes, I dug like a puppy toward her prize.
“Hang on to the memories!”
Both my husband and I dug now, ever so slowly as not to harm “Tulsi’s” strong roots that she intuitively was sending deep into the warm, thawing earth.
Apparently, the late Summer storm’s wind had uprooted her from the pond and blown her, feet first, into the mud. The rains pushed her deeper into the ground where she lay beneath the sheltering snows of Winter. The steady melting of Earth’s white blanket and the deep, gentle warming by Mother Nature allowed her to sprout beneath the ground and to bloom!
My bruised foot no longer bothered me. I had no time for that. I ran as quickly as I could to the potting shed. I found the empty vessel; the one “Tulsi” called ‘home’ for so many years.
As the Moon was beginning to rise, I replanted “Tulsi” with fresh tilled garden soil and small pebbles. The neighbors applauded her homecoming!
Since the pond was not yet up and running, I placed her into a deep, silver bucket of warm, lightly salted water. Adding a bit of chamomile to soothe her forming leaf buds and slightly injured roots, I surrounded the pail with lit candles. Like magick, “Tulsi” sent her solitary, scarlet blossom high above the water with her dawning leaf buds swimming toward the light of the now golden Moon. There wasn’t a dry eye in the neighboring huddle.
“Tulsi” has grown strong and graceful. Growing into her new life, she is surrounded by still, crystalline water and many new friends.
“Hang on to the memories!”
WORD LIST FOR THIS STORY
(1) SHEBUNKIN - a type of medium-sized, colorful, very friendly goldfish with flowing tails
(2) CRUCIBLE - a container that is usually made of earth to withstand both heat and ice
(3) Tulsi - a feminine name from the Sanskrit - suggested to me by my friend, Vedangi
(4) BARLEY MOON - September Moon
SableHawk
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