Untwisting

I've learned a few things in recent days.

First among these, I am coming to understand what it means to carry an injury to one's spine.  It turns out that I have some not insignificant issues with a few discs in my neck which are potentially problematic (most inevitably, without proper care), but manageable, nonetheless.  Neck like an oak tree (on fire), so I've been told.  I have, perhaps, been underestimating the effects of this on my general state of well-being, while routine tasks such as doing the dishes, lifting a few pounds, normal movement, sitting, sleeping, seeing, swallowing, breathing, etc. have become increasingly difficult.  Considering the relationship of vertebrae to the central nervous system, I am not particularly surprised--albeit relieved--to find that I am feeling much, much calmer and more lucid after only a few adjustments.  I'm on deck for three per week during the next month--an aggressive schedule, to be sure, but this new person I'm seeing is not messing around.  For the first time in many years I feel the beginning of a much needed and long overdue change in my body, and in the most essential element of my continuing existence as homo sapiens.  It would be a bit foolish to say that I had no idea, but I have to wonder--as the urge for smoke and drink floats away, as I open my chest and stand firmly on my two feet--how in the dark I have been, for quite some time.  The oak is mighty, but when it breaks, it breaks for good.  To be more of the willow, to bend and to grow again, is my design...

The power of transformation.  In a garden it is nearly impossible not to experience this, as I had the pleasure of being reminded this evening, after a day which went from good (I can drop my head back freely!) to worse (tight grip overtaking skull) and back again... On my arrival home I noticed that one of the pumpkins I planted with a friend last week, if only as a gesture of unyielding hope, was up and in the world.  Peppers and tomatoes grow riper daily, on plants which have exceeded my expectations by so far that I am truly humbled by their presence.  Here and there, flowers continue to open portals of color, coaxing my greyed matter into a more vibrant state.  This yard is actually rather amazing, in the number and variety of plants growing in it, and in the gentle way it has wooed me, despite my reluctance to give it my whole heart.  The neighbor(hood)'s cat, Vishnu--who I'd been calling Haiku--climbs over the fence to greet me as I wander the grounds, finding new growth at every turn.  By contrast to the 120 acres of land I grew up on, this smaller scale requires a somewhat tighter focus...With macro lens (oh how I wish!) there are so many small wonders to behold...

Tonight I witnessed something which I suspect few among you have seen.  I was just about to plant a few cast-off globe thistles when a trumpet of white caught my attention.  I grabbed my camera and took this shot:
 

 

...and I missed the next one, because before I was able to think about what I was seeing, the blossom gave a gentle twist and opened, to my surprise... 

 

and then, another...

 

and was fully open within moments:

 

Datura: goddess of the garden, unfurling herself in twilight to rival the moon, wielding dreams as swords to cut through the mists of time, unwinding... 

 

Also known as Jimsonweed, erroneously as Moonflower, and more commonly as Loveapple, Daturas are members of the Solanaceae family, so potato beetles love 'em:

 

In the few minutes I spent taking a few photos of this lovely plant, the blossom which had only just opened began to fold...

 

...and in the softening whiteness, this momentary vision...

 

These flowers close as quickly as they open, though at the moment my Datura--planted only two short months ago and already big as a forest cat--is covered with fat green pods, ready to burst.  It's possible I might catch another opening, but I've had enough experience with this sort of thing to know that it's no coincidence, when a flower spirals open before your very eyes... This is a plant of ancient wisdom and shamanic tradition, hallucinogenic dreams and love potions, not one to be taken lightly.  I've never grown one before, but have always admired them, and now that we've become acquainted it's time I carry myself off to bed, to sleep, perchance to dream...