July 15th, 2008

I’ve been thinking about how much I enjoy my garden during the summertime, though it’s really nothing more than some overgrown bushes and ground covering, shade trees and potted flowers.  I actually like the wildness of the overgrowth, pushing past the boundary of the walkway, plants meandering where they please.  Even the vines in my pots have expanded far beyond the edges of their container.  It reminds me of summers past when for three months I was free from the confines of the schoolroom and able to wander through my day as I pleased without a schedule or worry.   I tend my pots, clipping off dead flowers, watering and adding a little Miracle Grow to compensate for my modest gardening skills.  The Irises and Lilacs seem to get along just fine without any assistance from me and I am grateful for that.


I’ve begun to notice the gardens around town and the array of colorful expressions.  My neighbor has a beautifully manicured rose garden that she tends to daily and across the street is an indigenous garden filled with wild grasses, rocks, and flowering bushes.  Each seems to express the gardener’s unique flair for composition of color and texture.  Some are structured with neat rows and boarders while others have an organic quality to them.   Even in nature gardens appear in abundance this time of year.  The wildflowers along the trails near my home seem to have no other purpose than to offer their delicate gift purely for the sake of beauty.  And maybe that’s why I’m drawn to my untamed garden; it is a simple and deeply satisfying source of beauty with no particular purpose beyond that. And like the unscheduled days summers of past, it refreshes my soul.

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