Working in my yard this weekend, pulling weeds and mulching the flower beds, I found myself humming this old folk song “Yellow is the Colour of My True Love’s Hair”. Not because my love’s hair is blonde in the morning (it is salt-and-pepper all the time), but because EVERYTHING was yellow, dusted with a thick coat of what my botanist friend calls tree sperm. Pine pollen—we all more or less hate it.
Everything looks dull. It clings to all surfaces; cars seem to be a particular magnet. With a small gust of wind, you can see it billowing in sulfurous clouds of gold. Despite our general annoyance—guess what? Pine pollen is supposed to be good for you! Seriously.
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Hang out with me for any length of time and you will hear me repeat my many mantras. A frequent one is: I have too many gardens for a single woman with a social life. It’s become a problem. While I do love gardening—I truly enjoy both the process and the result—it seems to have taken over my life and my yard. Ornamental trees, shrubs, flowers, ground cover, herbs, vegetables, a water garden, grass, and weeds; they are all there. And, as I (gracefully) age, I find gardening requires more Advil and leaves me with less energy for other pursuits. I truly regret it when I am too tired for dancing…but is having a meaningful conversation after dinner considered a pursuit? How about staying awake past 8 PM?
accidental goddess 