Gardens are ardent metaphors for the act of growing. As the impossibly petite seeds sprout into the abundance of summer and survive to provide beauty and food, there are also casualties. Some dry out, or get mildew and fungus from the dampness. Alpine strawberries get nibbled by our dogs. The abundance of growing and dying is so evident there. When Hydrangeas are blossoming in indigo blue and deep purple jewel tones, we cut them to bring that moment of beauty into our home. When they die, we compost them so that new plants will grow next year. When one row of lettuce becomes bitter and dies, we plant anew. when the stringbeans complete a bountiful harvest for the season, the plants die, their reason for being in the earth is done.
And so the process of life in the garden moves in cycles. The gate? It is important to celebrate the entrance to our garden with a sign of passage.