CELEBRATE THE WINTER SOLSTICE

                                                                  by Frank La Rosa Mazza

Years ago I planted  a few small gallon size pyracanthas, old variety poinsettias, Indian hawthorn,  and deep green needled conifers (Japanese black pines). White blossoms, red berries,  and green pine branches.

Now I have a natural winter garden of reds and greens that bespeak the Spirit of Christmas without my having to rely on commercial  store bought decorations and ornamentation.

The pyracanthas have grown into massive bright red berried  shapes that set off the front garden in Christmas, beautiful shapes of bright red, and the birds love the plump berries. Poised on both side of the front planter bed, they are seasonal flames. Everybody likes 'em

A long time ago (molti anni fa} I was able to get some poinsettia cuttings; not the hot house forced types or the varieties packed on shelves at Walmart. These cool poinsettias are the variety that were grown thirty or forty years ago by the old Italians in their Little Italy front yard gardens. Now, few of these jewel like gardens remain, alas--the condos are wiping them out. Every year developer does a scrape that obliterates the past.

These old poinsettias are hardy, tough, with brilliant red bracts that last a long time, and grow  ten to twelve feet tall. The plants themselves should be planted in full sun to produce full bracts of bright red color. They are perennial, of course, and are easy to maintain.

These poinsettia cuttings strike roots easily in gallon cans when taken in July and August and kept in a protected place, not too hot. Later on, they they can be planted in situ as and when you think they are big enough to continue growth on their own--now they will need attention and lots of water until they feel secure to continue on with their lives. They will then repeat the red bracts year after year--a remembrance of their former Italian owners. It's always a courtesy, respect,  to ask the original owners politely for a gift of a few cuttings. I have never been denied anywhere when I approached the old occupants with care and appreciation, and have had many an interesting chat at that. Plants too are social. Old world, eh?

As for the nuovo Walmart poinsettias, they too can be propagated from cuttings (not as vigorous and tall growing), hardened off, and carefully planted eventually in situ. Care, Sorge--that's the key, and one day they may reach heights of beautiful seasonal color.

The old ethnic inner city gardens are sources of Christmas treasures. I look out for them all the time while driving or walking around (sans cell phone of course) in those ethnic neighborhoods because I want to see who used to live there and maybe remember them. The owners are always generous and care that you care about plants: "Oh, my grandmother planted them years ago when they first moved here, from Italy, Mexico, Vietnam, or where ever."

A Natural Christmas is one that lives on.

Frank La Rosa Mazza Dec 22, 2021.

 

 

 

                                         Solstice Passing    17 December 2021                  

                                                       by Frank La Rosa Mazza

Deep blue cold sky and sunny bright air, crystal clear--

A burning sun compasses a low arch across the southern sky in late afternoon.

In the sea, deep shadows in the wake of its grey steely waves.

This time of year only a few days till the Winter Solstice--

      is difficult.

The angle of the sun, even though it is a bright sun,

      reveals darkness in me, a sad melancholy

     for all those I have known and have died, gone.

The light is intensely bright

      but ungivingly cold,. chilled.

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Care is a state in which something does 'matter'; care is the opposite. of apathy. p. 269

Heidegger 'thinks of care as the basic constitutive phenomenon of human experience.'

 p. 290 

                                                                                         LOVE and WILL by Rollo May

                             What does care for a garden mean?   By Frank La Rosa Mazza

   Most people in suburbia want the status, ownership (possession) and luxury of owing a house that is situated on a large enough piece of land to grow a garden. They want to be the quintessential Willy Loman who follows the American dream. But, they, unlike, Willy, don't care about maintaining a garden, or what that even means and they  live in houses that today cost two to three million plus.

   Nor do some homeowners care about living things that come along with the material possession of a home with a back and front yard.  The plants were 'popped in' by the builders.  So, it would probably be best for society and the few noncaring homeowners in mindless, middleclass America to live in apartments or highrise condos where you can't open the windows for the spring breezes, hear the birds singing, nor walk bare foot on the grass, and you have to call the garage valet to get out your car out to drive. Prison?

   Nevertheless, status, as a result of owning that house in suburbia, is indelibly stained into the middleclass mindset. And it is a good thing for a lot of us. But for some, owning is a powerful hierarchical obsession, for those who think they have made it, (moved on up) risen up in the affluent push button tech world.   And, they don't mind shelling out a lot of money, and not taking personal, down to earth care of their gardens. I like getting my hands into the rich earth that I have made from my own compost.  And, if they do care a little bit, to save face among their neighbors, they gladly pay the " mow and blow" so-called 'gardeners'   who are further proof of material status. These "mow and blow" guys never use a rake, touch the earth, or plant in the earth, and they blow allergenic, toxic dirt and dust into the air. Their blowers make an inordinate obnoxious noise, (like grunting bulls) especially when one is listening to music!

   Yes, there are those who can't because of serious reasons give care to a garden. I am aware of that. 

   But, on my daily walks through my suburban neighborhood, I observe many examples of the lack of care for living plants, trees and birds. The gardens are sere, dry, and almost dead.  These gardens are a symbolic microcosmic proof of the deficit of love and care for the planet Earth. The Green Earth upon which we all live and depend, and love. What I sometimes see on my walks is often similar to walking into an office (even a medical office) and seeing unwatered, dying plants. And nobody cares! 

   We are defined by what we care about. Soren Kierkegaard called this Sorge the Danish word for Care. I don't trust people who allow their plants to dry up and die. This makes me wonder what else they allow to die. 

   Even the people keep an African violet or a philodendron on a windowsill have Care. They have kindness.

                                                                                                                   Frank La Rosa Mazza 

                                                                                                                   26 November 2021.

                                                                                                                   

   

   

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