Sage Survival

Haven't been to the garden since Saturday except to water. John came to spray on Monday and I had a lot of work to do. One Tuesday we spent the day out of town. But this afternoon I finally planted the rosemary on the slope with the other herbs and the thyme in the bed by the pump house where the soil is a bit richer. (See picture.) The weather was just right for transplanting -- overcast and not too hot.

It was also just right for pulling some more thorns. So after watering, I decided to see if there was anything left of what was a hearty sage plant two years ago. I began to carefully start pulling out the thorns that were overunning everything in the corner by the gate where that sage plant used to thrive. After I had weeded about two feet from the gate I began to smell sage, so I knew something still had to be there. And, finally, I saw a mass of entangled brown woody stems with a few green sage leaves attached. It actually looked more like a bunch of roots above the ground. But it was there. It reminded me a bit of a strong Christian who has had trouble after trouble come into his life until he is almost overwhelmed by all the trials and can no longer see the light and has to put all his energy into just surviving. His roots have gone deep, and the rain of the Spirit has still reached him, and in spite of all the obstacles in the way of his receiving fellowship and nourishment, he is still hanging on, waiting for God to remove the obstacles to his thriving so he can once again bloom and spread leaves in all directions. Now that the weeds around and over the sage are gone and the light can penetrate again, I fully expect to see more leaves, and even flowers. I'll prune some of the tangled stems, and soon, I hope, this sage, the mother of the beauties on the slope, will once again be full, green, and lush, as it used to be.