-

 Good Bye and Celebration of Mama Oak’s Life and Majesty 

On Saturday July 2 – our first true summer day this year here in Berkeley – about 30 friends, old and young – are meandering through the Open Karinaland Garden, up and down the stairs. Contributing delicious food, snacking, gathering in groups on the several levels of patio and terraces beneath the live oaks. It is a sunny hot day that ends in a balmy sunset, everyone is enjoying the views, bright faces of nasturtiums, intoxicating scent of my iridescent sweet peas, and the welcome shade beneath the trees. Mama Oak feels honored, celebrated, admired in her majesty and magnificence. 


 
...how I used to swing by launching from the terrace wall to fly high into the oaks...  

(photo by Fern) 

 

My longtime friend Renate, takes up my invitation prompting guests to wear a flamboyant colorful outfit. Her playful overalls from Creative Growth artist Lulu Sotelo, who is one of her favorites, fits perfectly into Karinaland. So fun – amazing! Thank you. Creative Growth 

 

photo by Christopher 

 

I forget that my nasturtiums seeds which I handpick yearly to dry in the sun and gift to people, are left on the wooden table’s back part. As dishes are accumulating, some visitors snack on those seeds, asking me what kind of nuts these are. I gasp – and laugh. What seems obvious to me, is not to others. Nobody is going to die. Nasturtium flowers and leaves are edible. I put them in my morning miso soup. They are good in salads or just snacked on while gardening, peppery, refreshing. So are the still green pods; when pickled they are used as substitute capers, a much cheaper version :)  I did it two years ago, and am reminded to repeat this. The flowers’ seed pods come in clusters of three, and when ready – light green with sometimes red striped markings – they will separate and fall into your palm when touched lightly with fingertips. As with most harvesting, a sensual delight.... 


Fresh and sun-dried nasturtium seeds 

 

Many intimate stories are shared in the circle next to Mama Oak, of old times…. How she drew my late husband Bob to this place, then me, inspiring inner & outer growth and creativity in her protective and wide spread arms. How thick the canopy used to be even just 15 years ago. No sky was visible, sitting in this oak grove it was cool and wet even on hot days. Then came the drought and thinning of green foliage, giving a chance to other plants, like my colorful friends. Change. Time.


I encourage Emma and Henry to try the double hug 

 

For each friend when leaving, I cut a bundle of lemon balm (melissa) to take home and make a fragrant tea that has a mellowing effect on the nervous system. Medicine from the old country. 


Denise takes a still 

 

Gratitude to all who brought their lovely presence, paying respects to Mama Oak, taking the garden’s gifts with them, reminding me of the wide support net I am lucky to be granted 


Comments

  1. FernJuly 3, 2023 at 5:10 PM

    So grateful to have had the to opportunity to be a part of the Grand farewell to Mama Oak. Such a lovely day with so many lovely souls. Indeed you have been gifted with a fabulous circle of friends.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Alex KJuly 4, 2023 at 5:51 PM

    What a treat for the soul and spirit to spend time in your beautiful garden and with good company. And sitting by Mama Oak listening to heartful stories feeling Mama Oak's grace. I learn from how you are: that the attention and care you pay is rewarded with the grace and beauty that was so abundant all around.

    ReplyDelete
  3. nicole gervacioJuly 10, 2023 at 1:37 PM

    this was a beautiful gathering! thank you to and for all the offerings from the garden. it was a beautiful way to connect with some of the mycelium of your community, young and old, plants as well as the beings that pollinate and enjoy the garden as well. deeply grateful to have spent time with the mother oak. so many memories, stories told, and time spent under her canopy...

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

-
Image
  Immigration On Friday morning of September 20, I am spending a couple of hours for my naturalization interview in the federal building  on 630 Sansome Street in San Francisco  that houses the U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services. Then later at 1 pm, in the oath ceremony, I am reciting the Pledge of Allegiance. Standing, holding up my right hand like everyone else, repeating the words after our master of ceremonies, I am engulfed in a chorus of immigrants’ voices from all over the world. Out of maybe 80, only two are Caucasian. The man leading us through the 20 minutes ceremony, is most likely a judge, but without his robe. He is an elegant, kind, and personable elder. We can hear the genuineness in his voice, and we are genuine, too. As we pledge allegiance to this country, the English sentences might ring slightly different for each of us. In another minute we will be citizens of the United States. Something in me is expanding. I am swearing to be a responsible an...
Read more
-
Image
  Last Dance with Uncle Oak This time, to honor the loss of another member of my ancient live oaks, I want to climb into the tree. Like I used to do 32 years ago, move, touch, feel – suspended in the air, resting on bark, sensations to be remembered. Perhaps documenting it? I ask around last minute, and find a good match in photographer  Rebecca Weinstein  to take stills of my last dance with old Uncle Oak. Once my naked feet touch the rough bark, a dynamic joy starts spreading through my body and limbs. The surprising urge to elongate myself within the safety of his sturdy arms. Next morning in a different light, I dress for another chance of closeness, envisioning my smallness to be captured. The freedom to grow into a tree, become tree , get an oak’s view, blend well, and disappear eventually. Uncle Oak, has been leaning for decades, growing northward horizontally, reaching far over into the neighbor’s yard. Now that Mama Oak has left, his malaise is more apparent...
Read more
-
Image
  Looking at you… f aintly the handwriting reads:    Karina & Bob, Here’s looking at you in 1994 With best regards, Howard   Back when he studied T’ai Chi with me for a few years, Howard was already older, a fine, eccentric gentleman. And a very good and well-known artist. With a deeply philosophical side to him which made him enjoy my way of teaching the Art and Principles of this ancient practice. He’d have questions, comments, always delighted by insights, his or mine.   In the hallway I often pass his small watercolor, with its (faded by now) inscription to Bob and me. Bob’s birthday will be in three days on May 18.  If alive, my late husband – who died in October of 2016 – would turn ninety-five this year. Suddenly I feel the presence of time in my heart, swirling about back and forth, swooshing from chamber to chamber, expanding. Howard’s greeting from 1994 – thirty years later, I am now seventy, about the age he was back then.  Suddenly I am...
Read more