Having a house on a corner affords me and all passersby full view of the gardens. I have been told many times that "the gardens are beautiful, you work so hard....." My response is always the same. "I am not working, I am playing, thanks." No joke; the garden requires care and nurturing, to be sure, but is that not a gift the garden gives to me ... a chance to do what nature needs me to do? An opportunity to explore my capacity for giving outside of my comfort zone, sometimes? Yes, there are many times I head out to care for the flowers and plants feeling less than whole, but guaranteed, in no time at all, I find that I am lost in thought, my beathing becomes regular, and I am immersed in the sounds of wind, bird, and insect. There is nothing so soothing as the familiarity of my gardens. The numerous required tasks such as mulching, weeding, and deadheading allow me to slip into a state of total relaxation as these tasks are carried out. The sounds and smells surrounding me can take me to a place of my own. The other challenges, the constant decision-making required in a garden such as moving plants to better locations, color-scaping (I just made that up), who to keep and who to give up on ... surely these are more gifts, opportunities to grow. I suppose that is the truth (for this gardener): the garden is a two-way experience.
Awareness, instant and fully formed: at (its) end was a most glorious place. Somewhere she needed to be. Somewhere safe where she could rest. With a deep beath, Nell followed the Authoress across the threshold and into the most beautiful garden she had ever seen. (from The Forgotten Garden by Kate Morton)
Grow on, friends.
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