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where summer and autumn meet

This is one of my favorite moments in the year in the world of Northeast native plants, and I never let it pass without a trip to one of the native plant gardens near us, either at NYBG or BBG. It's a ritual to mark the shifting of the seasons, and a way to keep learning about our connection to the ecosystems that surround us, even as we go about our days along crowded sidewalks and tucked into bed in crumbling tenement buildings.

This year, the goldenrod is nearly past its prime just as the asters are getting ready to open. Last year, the two plant families seemed to reach their peak more simultaneously in a pollinator-laden riot of yellow and purple. The goldenrods, with their tuberous and densely matted root colonies are elbowing their way into the territory previously held by milkweeds and eupatoriums. The meadow plantings have grown full and lush, with the knee-high grasses and sedges providing support for the taller, leggier plants. Subtle shifts, for sure, but they feel meaningful. I've been watching each element of the garden come into its own from the beginning, and now we are bound together somehow. Our attention to these small details can be a path toward a deep love for the world and for each other. A love that moves us into action. I'd love to hear what you've been reading and thinking about this week, and how you've been taking loving action in the midst of it all. 

my own list of things read + done:

don't look away


And I'll leave you with a quote that I've been using to keep moving myself into action this week/month/year:

“Hope is not a lottery ticket you can sit on the sofa and clutch, feeling lucky. It is an axe you break down doors with in an emergency. Hope should shove you out the door, because it will take everything you have to steer the future away from endless war, from the annihilation of the earth's treasures and the grinding down of the poor and marginal... To hope is to give yourself to the future - and that commitment to the future is what makes the present inhabitable.”

― Rebecca Solnit, Hope in the Dark


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