With the heartless slaughtering of innocents, ransacking of homes, destruction of livelihoods, and raping of life-giving lands, I find myself trying to heal the tiny, one quarter of an acre piece of dirt under my care.
My garden has already earned the certified monicars of Wildlife Habitat, and Monarch Way-Station. I plant native perennials and self-seeding flowers, with a smattering of annuals for potted flashes of color. Shelter, food and water are provided for native birds through specific trees, birdhouses, feeders, baths, and fountains. Recently I’ve branched out to provide food, water, and shelter for insects as well.
Therefore, I’m adding on a new project to give shelter and sustenance to the majestic swallowtail butterflies that want to live here. Last year, I accidently provided them with one of their host plants after I read that planting rue around vegetable patches discourages cats from digging. My two kitties and gardening buddies love to fling dirt in my raised vegetable beds!
Later in the season, I noticed my rue clumps covered with caterpillars. Luckily, I was aware enough not to spray them with my natural concoction of insecticidal soapy water, but took a picture instead. With a little research, I learned that rue, parsley, cilantro, dill, and carrots are the primary host plants for the yellow, giant and tiger stripe swallowtail butterflies. And, my annual zinnias, cosmos, and poppies are their primary source of nectar. I placed little rock resting spots as perches in the bird baths from which they can drink.
This year, I’d like to also make sure that the black and blue swallow tail have a home-base and way station in my garden. It’s host plants include trees as well as the herbs already listed for the yellow swallowtail. The trees include the citrus, magnolia, camphor, pawpaw, buckthorn, and bay. We planted a bay tree last fall to give it a head start for this spring season.
Why do I nurture these habitats for insect wildlife?
Selfishly, I’m nurturing a thriving, full-circle garden for my own physical and spiritual healing. The natural body movements of gardening keep my joints as limber as possible. The garden covers me with the joy of scents, colors, textures, and abundance to heal my soul!
However, this season, the garden is especially teaching me to relinquish my worrisome anxieties by doing my part in healing our world, cultivating a healthy environment and sharing with others in “my neck of the woods.”
How does nature remind you to heal body and soul?
The last, the very last,
So richly, brightly, dazzlingly yellow.
Perhaps if the sun’s tears would sing against a white stone….
Such, such a yellow
is carried lightly way up high.
It went away I’m sure because it wished to
kiss the world goodbye.