We’ve decided upon a new perch as we adjust to returning to our old stomping ground. As the Lord enables we will alight in the peak of Maryland’s summer – hardly the season to plant. Our new home’s garden will be a work more in need of T.L.C. than the one we are leaving, and it will be several times larger.
The former “gardener” didn’t care for much on the outside of his home, preferring the intricate demands of building models – ships and aircrafts – which filled almost every room of the house. The outside of this snug little house has been sorely neglected, a truth our landlords recognize and are addressing as weather permits — Maryland has had unusually heavy rainfall for months. They have invited me to join them in revitalizing several of the neglected flower beds – permitting me to plant what I like!
Woooo-hooooo! Am I a happy camper gardener or what?
But the right to plant a little, to pot a little, to pick a little, amongst family and old friends, while hopefully making some new ones . . . now that’s a purpose that can keep a pulse going.
In every gardener, there is a child who believes in The Seed Fairy. ~ Robert Brault
But the reality is that weeds come from seeds, too. And maybe the Seed Fairy doesn’t know or care about differences? Frankly, mowed crab grass looks good, from a distance.I have a feeling, this garden will teach many lessons.
I learn more about God
From weeds than from roses;
Through the smallest chink of hope
In the absolute of concrete . . . ~Phillip Pulfrey
* A grim old nursery rhyme — set to music:
A Garden Full of Snow: Hard words, Gentle Tune