If there was no tree this year

As we decorate, it occurs to me that a Christmas tree holds so much more than ornaments. Resting on all those boughs is a treasure trove of memories that remain long after the tree is gone and Christmas itself is over for another year. ~Nita Prose, The Mistletoe Mystery

It is no secret to anyone who knows me that I love Christmas. I have since I was a child, and as an adult, it has become an entire season for making music, decking the halls and celebrating with friends and family. In the 1980’s my husband and I performed as a high tech musical duo for several overseas tours with the DOD/USO, entertaining the men and women who served in the armed forces far away from home.

Hand carved desk sign from the Philippines

One year, we did a seven week Asian tour that stretched over Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year’s Eve – honestly, I didn’t expect to miss the holidays. But when Christmas Eve arrived while we were in the Philippines, I shed a few tears of homesickness. After our concert that night, we were invited to a local Christmas Eve service in a newly completed mahogany cathedral. It was magnificent, this cathedral with no walls, open to the warm night air and dark skies filled with a million stars. We were humbled and grateful when we were treated as guests of honor. While singing Silent Night by candlelight accompanied by young girls playing guitars, I couldn’t help but think of that lovely song’s first performance in 1818 for a Christmas Eve service in Austria. It was written to be accompanied by guitar when the church organ broke.

That was a Christmas I will never forget – no trees, no presents, no decorations, but brimming over with unfamiliar but delicious food, bountiful good will, the kindness of strangers, and a midnight sky outlined by palm trees swaying in the breeze between mahogany columns. When we returned home from the tour, I promised, like Scrooge, that I would always “keep Christmas” and I have. I even wrote a song inspired by that special moment.

I will honor Christmas in my heart and try to keep it all the year. ~Charles Dickens, A Christmas Carol

This year will be another memorable Christmas for me. Last week, I began the deep house cleaning that I do before decorations go up. In my enthusiasm, I slipped on a wet tile floor, thereby performing an impromptu cheerleader split. Ouch. An ambulance ride and several days in the hospital revealed that my hamstring was torn and that I had several months of bedrest and sofa lounging ahead of me. My first night at home, I went through all five stages of grief in a few hours and then resigned myself to a quiet winter of healing and restoration. No Christmas trees, no lights, no bows, no ribbons, no wreaths. No snow filled adventures in the garden with Pixie and worst of all, no sitting, at least for a while. The many guests who were coming here for Christmas dinner have been redirected to my niece’s house while Pixie, Bill and I will have a quiet feast at home.

Lest you pity me, I’ve already made the necessary mental and emotional adjustments and have come to see this is an opportunity to consider new avenues of creativity and to plan for the coming garden season. Since I can only stand for a short time or recline at this point, no holiday cards are going out and no new garden videos will be posted until I regain mobility and am able to sit at a computer. That said, I offer instead my Christmas video from last year that uses Christmas in my Heart as its soundtrack – the story of that beautiful Christmas Eve spent so far away from home. (my apologies for the repeat to those of you who have seen it before!)

And if you want to see and hear Bill and me as our duo Aergo in the 1980’s, watch this historical music video of us performing Free the same year we did that memorable tour. 

Here’s wishing each and everyone of you a holiday season filled with joy, wonder and happy celebrations, no matter where you find yourself. Peace ❤️

New year, new changes

It is bitter cold here in Western Pennsylvania, with about 5″ of snow on the ground. Finally, a typical winter! Fortunately the snow insulates the plants and the garden should be abundant this coming season.Pixie and I have spent a few quiet evenings by the fireplace as I considered how I want to proceed on the blog and on all of my social media. Did I want to shut down everything online or commit to writing and creating material more regularly? I explored each option fully, as I was frustrated and frankly, bored, with the status quo. I finally realized that I needed to unhook the direct connection between my life in the garden and my work as a composer – each continues to affect the other but trying to sustain material for two separate threads here and on YouTube has prevented me from doing work I would like to do.

Wild turkey tracks

The good news is that I’m continuing the Composer in the Garden blog with the emphasis on the garden while currently in the process of starting new gardening YouTube and Instagram channels with the same Composer in the Garden name. You may have noticed the new header image and tag line (Gardening in harmony with nature) above, which will carry through everything I do.

While I continue to work on this substantial reimagining of my online sites, please enjoy a video that I made last year that I haven’t posted here, the final episode of my Garden Dreams collaboration.

Working through this process has clarified what I want to do in the garden and on the page while reinvigorating my desire to post frequently and more thoughtfully. I look forward to being more present on the page going forward. Thank you my friends for staying with me all of these years and taking time to read and comment – it means more than you know.

Sometimes we can only find our true direction when we let the wind of change carry us. ~Mimi Novic

Let it snow

The first fall of snow is not only an event, it is a magical event. You go to bed in one kind of a world and wake up in another quite different, and if this is not enchantment then where is it to be found? ~J. B. Priestley

For the first time in several years, snow has returned to our region (south west Pennsylvania, US) in November and December. For the last few years we were lucky to get one or two snowfalls a year; we’ve already had several inches of snow in December and one gorgeous deep fluffy snowfall right before Christmas. Not only is it beautiful but it provides protection in the garden from deep freezes (known here as “white mulch”) and fixes nitrogen in the soil. After a difficult drought in late summer through early autumn, this is heaven sent moisture for the garden and also provided an enchanting snowy Christmas this year.

Various health issues prevented me from posting much this summer – it was all I could do to keep the garden going in the drought – but now I can relax and reflect on the garden year while enjoying the fun of decorating the house for the holidays. Dear friends spent a few days with us for Christmas, much to the delight and endless fascination of Pixie who is unaccustomed to having unrestricted access to visitors!

As I write, Christmas music is playing quietly in the background and the low winter sun is softly lighting the room. A time for reflection and hopes for a peaceful year-  in our hearts at least – to come. Here is a short video of the decorations of the season and the beautiful snowfalls that we enjoyed, with my song “Christmas in My Heart” playing underneath.  Enjoy!

Pixie and I wish everyone everywhere a beautiful season of joy, light and celebration and hope you are able to “keep Christmas” in your hearts.

Here I wander in April

Here I wander in April
Cold, grey-headed; and still to my heart
Spring comes with a bound, Spring the deliverer,
Spring, song-leader in woods, chorally resonant . . . ~Robert Louis Stevenson

True, it is the last day of April as I write this, but in my wanderings I have watched spring come with a bound to lead the garden in song.

In March, there was little hint of what was to come.

Spring drew on…and a greenness grew over those brown beds, which, freshening daily, suggested the thought that Hope traversed them at night, and left each morning brighter traces of her steps. ~Charlotte Bronte

Hello, sun in my face. Hello you who made the morning and spread it over the fields…Watch, now, how I start the day in happiness, in kindness. ~Mary Oliver

First the hellebores

and the native bloodroot bloomed . . .

followed by daffodils of every color. (click on any photo to see a full-size image)

The native Ostrich ferns unfurled (Matteuccia struthiopteris), showing off their fractal geometry

as well as creating a textured backdrop for the summer snowflakes.

Pixie is joyously exploring the new smells and sounds of the woods and guards her domain with diligence and grace.

A dog can never tell you what she knows from the smells of the world, but you know, watching her, that you know almost nothing. ~Mary Oliver

I planted tulips last fall, for the first time in years, and am reveling in their color along with the thousands of our native wild violets that run through the garden beds.

but the biggest show is in the “Grape and Lemonade” bed – full of tulips, daffodils, and forget-me-nots.

I’m continuing to explore making garden videos – I want to share how it feels to move through the garden rather than merely look at it.  

Wherever you are in the world, I hope you are enjoying the unfolding of the new season as color and light change and make magic in the world.

Come with me into the woods where spring is
advancing, as it does, no matter what,
not being singular or particular, but one
of the forever gifts, and certainly visible.  ~Mary Oliver

All photos, text, and video ©2023 by Lynn Emberg Purse, All Rights Reserved except where noted.

How beautiful the leaves

How beautiful the leaves grow old. How full of light and color are their last days. ~John Burroughs

The weeping cherry glows as the last bit of gold in the lower garden, an umbrella of light in the late autumn garden.

The mild fall weather has delayed leaf fall and a few days have been warm enough to dine outside. Bill and I ate lunch at an outdoor restaurant in our local park; a mild sunny day filled the patio with diners in November.  The stillness and beauty of the lake we viewed from our table stayed with us for days.

The garden is a place of constant change. Two weeks ago, the trees were still loaded with leaves 

and the skies were blue.

What was golden

became bronze

and finally fell to the earth.

Autumn is the hardest season. The leaves are all falling, and they’re falling like they’re falling in love with the ground. ~Andrea Gibson

The last burst of color of autumn is at the entrance to our driveway, where the kousa dogwood and azalea leaves are having a multicolored moment.

I want to send a special thanks to all of you who read and commented on my last post about our beautiful Angel – your words meant so much and helped in the healing process. One of our longtime friends sent us a sketch he created of one of Angel’s photos; we were surprised and thrilled and he promised to send an oil painting. Gus was the best man at our wedding and our drummer when Bill and I were performing many years ago in Pittsburgh as Sundance (Gus is looking over my shoulder). He retired and moved to Florida a few years ago with his wife Shirley, where he has returned to drawing and painting – his work is regularly shown at a local gallery. We were deeply touched when this beautiful painting of our girl arrived this week – Gus caught the essence of her beauty and expression and it was one more gift of friendship that is healing our hearts.

For those of you who celebrate the coming American Thanksgiving holiday, I wish you a warm and loving holiday and a joyous autumn to all.

Go, sit upon the lofty hill,
And turn your eyes around,
Where waving woods and waters wild
Do hymn an autumn sound.
The summer sun is faint on them—
The summer flowers depart—
Sit still— as all transform’d to stone,
Except your musing heart. ~Elizabeth Barrett Browning, The Autumn

 

All images and text ©2021 Lynn Emberg Purse, All Rights Reserved except where noted. Painting of Angel Eyes by © 2021 Gus DiPerna All Rights Reserved