I have created and lovingly attend to seven perennial gardens. They are my canvases underneath the sky, where I indulge in experimentation with design, color and texture. Tending to them is good for my soul. It brings out the giver in me as I fertilize, water, weed, and stake plants that have become heavy with blooms. I talk to my plants. I touch them. I believe they respond to this love.
Digging in the dirt, pausing to observe the bees and hummingbirds as they visit the blooms nearby, feeling the warmth of the sun soak into my skin and bones, connects me to my inner naturalist and ultimately melds my body with my spirit. The mind tends to go loose and falls away.
My muscles work hard, I sweat, my clothes stick to my body in the heat. I feel strong, capable and beautiful.
There is surprise. Flowers that spring up through the soil, even though I did not plant them with my hands. Thank yous to the birds. This summer’s miracle lines our driveway. Wild strawberries by the thousands have magically appeared. Sweet. Ambrosiac.
This creative partnership with nature will be life-long, and life-sustaining methinks. It makes me feel whole. A Gift.
X