Oh dear, I chopped back the daisy plant, Mexican fleabane, to encourage new flowers and a few minutes later out of the corner of my eye I spotted this tiny tiny caterpillar searching for what had been there but moments, or a lifetime, before depending on your perspective. I sat with him for half an hour while he tentatively, but adventurously, searched showing amazing gymnastic skills in his quest.
I went to check on him later and he had gone. I suspect I had deprived him of his sanctuary and possible a good food source. It's very hard not to feel guilty. So far this year I've been sad for the blackbird babies, in the wisteria, at risk from next door's cat, Sammy the caterpillar and now the Gymnast. It's not only because I love nature, but because I have planted the environment these creatures make their home in. We live cheek by jowl with the fauna that makes it's home with us as the planting is up to and against our house. The blackbird nest was, for instance, just above our dustbin and the Gymnast's daisy just by our back door. It's all very beautiful but can be harsh at the same time. I am the gardener and I have to accept what I did was best for the plant, in a gardening sense, and I hoped a new show of flowers would be good for the pollinators. I am sad if I hurt a fellow creature but have to accept, to achieve full context, that I weed out plants I do not want, put organic slug pellets down and stand (not easily) on lily beetles. I want my actions in the garden to be as correctly instinctive as those of the creatures I share it with. Cutting back that plant was barely a conscious decision it was just time and it was done. Accepting responsibility for your actions and regret is right, and I do, heartlessness is what I reject but with CFS/fibro the anxiety from this acceptance can go too far and you can beat yourself up until the hammering bang, bang, bang thoughts becomes pain.
I do not want this excessive sense of responsibility to shackle me in the garden. Normally I lose all anxiety there. Gardening gives me artistic scope and I follow natural rhythms so ancient they are internalised in the, inherited, memory of your muscles and bones and reinforced by long years of gardening. To maintain this free state I have to accept that I am not responsible for the life that comes freely to my garden, I live with it in joy and sometimes sadness and emphatically I am not in charge of the drum.
I've still got my fingers crossed Gymnast made it!
Further Info: Mexican Fleabane, Erigeron karvinskianus, is a great plant, so pretty and great for smaller pollinators.