The real trick to life is not to be in the know, but to be in the mystery.
~ Fred Wolf
I wish I could bring you out to my scrounger’s garden (which needs a name, but it hasn’t come to me yet). Sure, I can bring you images, show you the light and softness of the flowers. What I can’t bring you are the scents and sounds and the peacefulness of an early, misty morning in May.
We would start by walking out the back door to the old weather-beaten wood deck, and look out towards the marsh and the woods, both shrouded in fog. Down the stairs and around the corner, we encounter two rabbits out for their morning romp. One of them bounces into the woods and out of sight. The other stands guard, watching to see what we’ll do. No worries, bunny. We’re going the other way.
We’ll make our way around the vegetable garden. On the other side is the scrounger’s garden, the pathway having grown in the last day or two as I worked on extending it outwards. The magnolia tree continues to sleep, still traumatized by the move from the woods. The new butterfly bush and dogwood tree are thriving and growing. The cherry tree blossoms are finished, and you can see the tiny little round fruits where the blossoms used to be.
Mint is crushed underfoot and the scent rises up to join with the perfumes of the pink roses and the purple irises. Oh, those roses! Their fragrance is amazing, and spreads out well beyond the bush that is laden with flowers.
The marsh grasses near the pond rustle as a sparrow pops up to have a look at us. A toad hops out of the iris patch and on to the garden path.
The air is misty and cool, and feels good against the skin. The occasional gull flies overhead, breaking the silence with its laughter. The Mockingbird screeches like a Blue Jay and begins his morning routine of belting out every song he’s ever heard.
Although I have tamed some of the garden, there is still a wildness about it that I think I’ll leave and encourage. I’ve never been one for smooth edges and symmetry, and I’m learning how to color outside of the expected lines.
If we stay here long enough, the fog will lift, the clouds will burn off, and the sun will appear, lighting up the little flowers growing by the wooden bar stool that sits near the sleeping magnolia.
I have to get to work, planting a few more flowers and vegetables. Thank you so much for visiting, and walking out to the garden with me. Feel free to stay here for as long as you wish or to wander off to explore the woods, the dock, the platform, or the little cemetery.
Be good, be kind, be loving. Just Be. 🙂