A brief update: I have changed service providers and have a new home for this newsletter. You can find everything, including archives for the newsletter and garden recipes, at maackia.ca. In addition, there is a special resources page for subscribers. My goal is to have commonly requested information (like how to plant a tree) easily accessible for readers. If there is something that you would like to see on that page, please let me know!

This past month hasn’t seen a lot of progress with any of my physical projects around the house. The foundation work is still in limbo (lags in the system are such a wonderful thing), and I picked up some project management work in Guelph that has been keeping my mind busy. Overall though, I have been enjoying the fall colours and soft light in the mornings and evenings. I have even been taking photographs and creating a few short videos for Instagram and YouTube. During this flurry of digital production, I read a Twitter thread from The School of Life that set off another pivotal huh moment for me.

The thread was about Matsuo Bashō and had a small selection of his poetry:

the old pond;
a frog jumps in —
the sound of the water.

What was initially striking to me was the simplicity of form. Here he was describing the natural world in a vivid, yet realistic way. The descriptions aren’t sugar-coated or romanticized either. They are seemingly written just as they are perceived, and done to great effect!

a poor temple
frost on the iron kettle
has a cold voice.

I was hooked.

a hangover
is nothing so long as there are
cherry blossoms.

Looking back, I have been struggling with my photography this year. I haven’t really picked up my camera since 2015, and even then, it was less than when I lived in BC before 2011. My camera, at this point, feels foreign and awkward. This makes sense when I stop and think about it — I haven’t used that muscle consistently in a long time. But my larger struggle was that I wasn’t connecting with what I was producing in the way that I aspired.

My goal in creating photographs is to share a connection with the natural world. I am keenly aware of how little I actually interact with my environment, and I work with plants as a profession! I don’t know how much time other people spend connecting with their natural surroundings, but I have a feeling it is a lot less than they think.

Ultimately, I feel like I am failing in my endeavour. When I look at my photographs, I see interesting pictures, but nothing of any lasting value. At best, they bring an extremely brief reprieve — a glimmer that makes me remember there is a beautiful natural world outside somewhere. But that glimmer quickly fades.

The thread from The School of Life went on to describe some things Matsuo Bashō worked towards. The first was apparently aesthetic in nature: “karumi”.

In my view a good poem is one in which the form of the verse…seem light as a shallow river flowing over its sandy bed.

The second (and what made his work all the more important to me) was the idea that creating and enjoying haiku opens the door to “muga”. The School of Life defines it as: “literally, ‘no self’, or a freedom from self.”

This is a central tenet of Zen Buddhism. Our self-obsession is the source of all our suffering. Only by escaping the ‘I’ can we find peace.
Bashō’s verses enact a kind of ‘muga’: directing our attention away from the ‘I’ and towards the natural world.
By paying closer attention to the sights and sounds of nature, we can escape our petty concerns and preoccupations and feel more connected to the world we inhabit.

Huh.

This thread ignited a flurry of creative energy. Not only does muga point the way forward for my photography, it gives me hope that one can create something today that isn’t merely adding to the visual noise that we have to constantly endure. That others can use an extraction to connect deeply with nature.

Haiku.

I could write haiku.

I could write haiku and join it with short videos or photographs.

So I did!

I clearly have no idea what I am doing, but that is ok for now — small steps. So far, I have created three short videos and I enjoyed every minute of it. I think I have found another creative outlet that I am going to continue to work on, much like the garden recipes that I started back in May.

If you are interested, you can find these short videos on either YouTube or Instagram (NB: Instagram will probably hide things if you don’t have an account, and likely still will even if you do. I suggest visiting YouTube). I might even create a home for them outside social media. Something to ponder over the winter months.

Exciting times!

the recipe

Peaking Through

I’ve started working on planting plans for next year, and I realized I hadn’t worked on an entrance garden in a while. This particular recipe can work as a planting in front of a wood or stone entrance wall, or it could stand on its own without a wall behind it. The drawing will only show one side of the hypothetical driveway, but you can mirror the drawing if you are interested in adapting the recipe to your space.

Once again, grasses play a vital part in setting the stage in this recipe. All the other perennials used have strong structure, and most are on the large side to make more of a visual impact from the adjoining road. Most of the flowering occurs through the summer and fall months, but I have incorporated a few different bulb species to balance out the recipe and complement the perennials that do flower in spring.

Ingredients:

Seasons:

Overview

Spring

This recipe has a lot more energy in spring than some of my previous recipes. Molinia caerulea ‘Moorflamme’ is a cool season grass, which means it will be doing its growing in spring and fall. The main structure at this time will come from Amsonia tabernaemontana and Baptisia x ‘Pink Lemonade’. Both will flower towards the end of spring and will carry into the early months of summer. The visual impact, however, will come from the bulbs: Allium sp., Camassia sp., and Narcissus sp. I haven’t identified specific cultivars to use in this recipe — see what you can source / which ones grab your attention. The key for the bulbs is to have something from each of the three groups.

Summer

Summer has a wave of colour and impact that carries the garden through to fall. It starts with Amsonia tabernaemontana and Baptisia x ‘Pink Lemonade’ (as a carry over from late spring) before moving into Monarda didyma ‘Jacob Cline’, Phlox paniculata ‘Blue Paradise’, and Sanguisorba menziesii. The Sanguisorba in particular will look stunning, as it will be contrasted with Calamagrostis brachytricha (a warm season grass). Finally, Echinacea purpurea and Sedum spectabile ‘Autumn Fire’ will close out summer and lead us into fall.

Fall

Fall is focused around enjoying the fruits of spring & summer's growth. Echinacea purpurea and Sedum spectabile ‘Autumn Fire’ will still be in flower going into September, while the rest of the perennials will begin to go to sleep for winter. The grasses will look stunning in the softer fall light, and Molinia and Amsonia will also bring some striking fall colour. Lots of brown and yellow tones, but with a splash of orange/red with various black seed heads scattered about.