When it comes to gardening, my philosophy is to let nature add the beauty where I lack the artifice.  Repeating patterns please the eye and sometimes unplanted “weeds” form a pleasing patchwork of ground cover, as long as they don’t get too high.  I trust nature to be beautiful in its own time.  There are some places, many actually, were the beauty simply shines.  The best we can do as humans is to try to imitate it.  We all know of scenic overlooks, scenic by-ways, scenic attractions.  When I was young I flattered myself at being handy with a pencil.  I still love to draw, but my years of neglect in favor of words has left whatever skill I had depleted.  Or rusty from disuse.  Our artificial lives (9-2-5, 9-2-5, 9-2-5) prevent much time from being spread between various forms of self-expression.  But I appreciate beauty.

The more academic among us with call it aesthetics.  I tend to think of it in Faustian terms.  I remember well learning in high school that should Faust ever say, “verweile doch, du bist so schön” (remain, you are so beautiful) Mephistopheles will have won.  There are many moments in my life when beauty nearly overwhelms.  As humans, however, we know that should we see it every day it will become prosaic.  We’ll feel the need to find something even more sublime.  Such things lead to concepts of Heaven.  That certainly isn’t the case for my front garden.  Time to spend weeding is about as rare as time to spend drawing, particularly, for the former, when it’s not raining, or too hot, or when a weekend is otherwise not too busy.

We’re nearing the end of the growing season.  The melancholy beauty of autumn is the most poignant turning point in the year.  My mind tends to go to extremes, so when I have to bundle up a little to start my morning jog I begin to worry about heating bills and being chilly until next May.  I’m not one to wish away any season, however.  There’s beauty in the abundance of summer, just as there is in the bleakness of winter.  At a recent art show I was once again reminded that I’m most attracted to painting that capture the essence of autumn or winter.  That hint of snow on the ground under clear blue skies, announcing that change is coming—that too is beauty.  I still have to harvest the weeds that got out of control these last few weeks, looking for the beauty in their persistent existence.