the rhythm of pruning

the weather today was lovely; blue sky and no wind

best of all there was a hint of warmth in the sun and i managed to get across the grass without getting my socks wet. today was a day for pruning. 

my short ramble took me to the bottom of the garden where we planted a willow dome around eight years ago.  it grew happily for a number of years until, sadly, my son decided that his play house needed a ’sunroof’.  it has never been the same.  despite it’s pruning, the willow still grows and has since become a wind break in the summer.  today it was time for its annual trim.

the rhythm of pruning helped my mind to wander to the various keynote speakers at the craftscotland craft and biodiversity symposium held at The Royal Botanic Gardens Edinburgh earlier this month.

i was struck by how passionately i felt about the topics we discussed and, having presented a keynote speech that looked at the connection between place and craft, i experienced many connections throughout the day that reaffirmed my belief that we need to use an integrated and multi disciplinary approach to the issues of craft and biodiversity.  the symposium was a starting point and one that was likely to require many heads, hearts and hands to made a difference.  

the practice of pruning made me think about my ancestors and their relationship to plants – each plant or tree would have been planted for a reason, whether it was for food, shelter, clothing or perhaps as a medicine.  the notion of ornamental or one-up-man-ship did not exist.  the plants grew best where the environment supported them and each plant had a role to play in all of its guises throughout the cycle of the seasons.  pruning had a relationship to harvesting, how things have changed.

if someone had asked me to cut the hedge today i would have declined.  however, through the process of harvesting twigs, from my garden, which will be incorporated into my ceramic work or made into wreaths or baskets, the hedge is now cut.

by focusing on the process the outcome took care of itself

www.anne-murray.com

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