Sunflowers

     Our elder daughter has been determined to grow sunflowers this year. She had a very successful roadside business in the past and although we have much smaller square footage here, we do have an opportunity to grow dozens of plants in our raised beds. Last year we suspect that rabbits ruined any chance of a good sunflower harvest so this year, we took advantage of our little greenhouse, got an early start and used every inch of garden we could to guarantee a bold return. A little fencing didn't hurt either. We are both excited to see what happens next. And the fact that the little seedlings were not bothered by the torrential rains or the little bit of hail we experienced recently makes us hopeful. The presence of a nearby bird feeder filled with black oil sunflower seeds means that we are never alone. Robins, chickadees, finches and even mourning doves make their presence known. And Mr. Rabbit is nowhere to be found. I suspect he found a more enticing spot without the possibility of our dogs making an appearance.

     Growing flowers, vegetables or fruits is never a sure thing, any farmer will tell you. And despite what those forget-me-nots poking up through cracks in the concrete might imply, the conditions must be right. Proper soil, sunlight, rain and care will not ensure success but will be very helpful.

     Whatever comes of our daughter’s efforts, we are looking forward to those blazes of yellow, orange and gold petals, those complicated yet simple centres, those broad green leaves and thick strong stalks. They're all gorgeous, generous and a patient gardener’s dream. And with a little help, luck and a few prayers we will be back in business, whether she sells any or not.

Robin

     As the first harbingers of spring, robins have always been one of my favourite birds. Their generous size, their gorgeous orange chests and their work ethic with worms have always impressed me. I love all birds and enjoy watching their quick and quiet antics in my garden. My garden is a place of many moods; joy, solace, wonder and sadness are all experienced there. Nature is a good friend when you need a quiet moment or maybe a distraction; there is always something to do. And as in a church, prayer seems to come naturally in a garden.

     When I learned that my friend Robin had died, my garden seemed like the best place to go. He was a man of wisdom, good humour and diligence. Getting to know him and working with him as wardens at Holy Trinity made me like him tremendously and respect and value his intelligence. He was a gentleman first and foremost, in every sense of the word. He was also a man who liked to walk and so I regret the pilgrimages Robin did not get to plan. It seemed to me that he was a man of vigour, with a great capacity to take on whatever life had thrown at him. Sadly none of us knew how short a time we were to have with him. Robin died in hospice care with his family around him. I miss him.

     One of  Robin's qualities that I most value was his ability to get us, his parish family, outside, which he did annually. We made a trek as a group with him as our leader, a Lenten pilgrimage, through parts of White Rock and South Surrey, meeting at the church and ending up there too. Robin charted our route and kept track of us all. These walks were an opportunity to forge new friendships and solidify old ones. The hot cross buns, tea and coffee waiting for us were a welcome treat after our walk and provided a time for fellowship. I appreciated how Robin was able to get us all together, walking for a few hours on a sunny spring Saturday and I know Hayley and her dog Stella appreciated it too. We will all miss him.

     Father Joe's prayer included in the notice of Robin's death resonates deeply with me this morning. It begins: " Father of all, we pray to you for those we love but see no longer...." Now every time that I look across the aisle to where Robin used to sit in church I will remember what a kind, wise and caring man he was. And I will not be alone.