For our 5th anniversary last year, Clarence built me a raised garden bed. It's appropriately known as the wood anniversary, he said (love you, husband). I had just taken a gardening class with a dear friend and suddenly the one sunny patch along the side of our house brimmed with endless possibilities of kale, cauliflower, herbs, and carrots and I quickly began (over)planting for all of the things nature would give us. Let's chat another time about how many of those things survived, but tenacity has always been on my side so this new season's crop attempt brought a new round of vegetables along with a lime and lemon tree.
Recently, I noticed large worm-caterpillar-like friends munching away on our citrus leaves and a little concerned, I texted a neighbor who delightedly told me that they were giant swallowtails.
Can you spot her?
Swallowtail caterpillars have somehow made their way into our garden and chosen our little trees to make themselves into something beautiful. So often we labor with our hands without looking up to see what's happening beyond ourselves - the kale will be great for our smoothies, carrots for our oven. But these little caterpillars have been a humbling reminder that all of our work has been created to ripple outward regardless of what we do; suddenly the planting isn't just about yielding crop anymore.
As we prepare for our S/S 20 release, I'm humbly reminded of the purpose beyond the painting, marketing, slating, producing, the day-to-day turn of a small business. I hope that I can see the swallowtails in every facet, that in using our hands, lovely things are made to extend past our doors for the joy of others.
Gratitude today, everyday, for renewed perspectives.
to swallowtails,
pat
