lean towards the light

I used to own a house with a 100+ year old elm tree that gave most of my property deep shade once all its leaves came in. But in the early spring, before leaves, the front yard got a little sun. My backyard had a couple patches of sun, but the three-story house and the maple tree in the back yard also limited how many plants I could grow that needed lots of sun. I used those patches of sun for tomatoes, zinnias and snapdragons.

And I became fairly adept at growing shade flowers.There are shade flowers but shade flower garden require different considerations. And different plant choices.

So my front yard was densely shaded most of the summer, although the house, with its skylights and many picture windows, got a lot of sunlight in the winter.  I loved the tree, its shade, the absence of its shade in winter, all the light that streamed in from the sides.

I have written about my annual planting of one snapdragon plant in my front yard, right in front of that towering elm tree*. It did not thrive. Snapdragons will fill out and grow many steps of flowers in sun. In shade, my single snapdragon remained a single all summer. I kept planting one in the same spot for the pleasure of watching that one flower grow horizontally about six inches above the ground in its invisible, nonmaterial but very-real attempt to grow towards the light.

I've been leaning into the light myself all my life, trusting that I will get to some light, some happiness, some love.

I'm tired. I'm hurting. I have no energy to lean towards the light.