As summer ends and the fall quarter begins, the powerful teaching "to everything there is a season" is particularly meaningful. This statement, found in Ecclesiastes 3:1, is a central principle in all the world's great cultures and traditions. It embodies a truth for us that goes beyond designations of summer, fall, winter, or spring. And beyond geography, weather patterns, species, or epochs.
Nowhere is this principle more evident than in nature. In a botanical garden the size and scope of the MEMBG, it is especially so. Within the seven acres of this wondrous garden we can fairly breathe the life that teems there in all its splendor. Whether observing the plants, the animals (winged, furred, feathered, and finned), the stream, or even the paths and the surrounding manmade structures, we can experience first hand the cycles of birth, growth, decay, and rebirth. These stages are an absolute and necessary component to any dynamic system.
In whatever state we enter the garden, be it grief, joy, or equanimity, we can find a resonance there with something that touches our hearts and minds. Memories may be triggered by the sight of the bend in a tree trunk, the way it stretches on the ground or reaches toward the sky. The fragrance of a blooming plant may stimulate a thought or a feeling. Viewing the myriad shades of green foliage can enhance our sense of peace and the rightness of all things. Drawing our attention as we walk by, the color of a flower can act as the spice in an otherwise drab day or can add zest to a day that is already gloriously vibrant. Developing a sensitivity to the cycles inherent in the garden helps us to form an awareness of ourselves in all our majesty and complexity.
The differences in our ages, professions, personal interests, and levels of understanding greatly influence how we experience the garden. Some will look deeply into the essence of what they find; others will merely glance at the superficial. A scientist will see with different eyes from a poet; a professor emeritus differently from a freshman. A young lover's perception will not be the same as that of the recently widowed. And those filled with physical vitality will perceive differently from those in poor health.
Regardless of these differences, the garden's precious gift to us is the same. It presents us a mirror through which to examine the seasons of our own lives. As we view the garden, we can see ourselves. Are we flowering or dormant? Are we experiencing a time of stagnation or decay? Are we in need of nurturing? Of letting go? Is this a time of regeneration? Do we need to prune out elements of our lives that no longer serve us and embrace something new? Is it time for us to use what has died as nourishment for what is to come next?
In this difficult, changing time, you are invited to visit the MEMBG and ask yourself these valuable questions as you stroll along and through the garden's paths. All the better to determine how you shift and grow, ebb and flow.
CAROL FELIXSON, Docent and Communications Coordinator