Reflections

My garden and I communicate quite well. As I muddle around in my gumboots ever so carefully spraying water at the soil level of my thousands of plants, I have plenty of time to ruminate about my life. Looking intently at each vegetable and flower and ripening fruits on the vines that hang hidden between the branches, and from the branches, a sense of peace washes over me. Each burst of life is observed and noted for bug infestation or health or if it needs a boost of growth enhancers to help it get bigger and each decomposing bit of organic material is watered away or mixed in with the old hay covering the tops of the soil. As I do these jobs, I often find myself going over an ancient memory as if it were happening today. I thought I got rid of that ingrained habit but I guess I didn’t tell that to my mind that keeps wandering away from the moment at hand.

There are so many mental and even emotional deviations to my tasks at hand and I doubt that I’ll ever really take control of where my mind wants to lead me. But I soldier on with my garden work anyway and glean some closure and much tranquility from being outside near these beauties that I planted and that I care for wholeheartedly.

I get so much joy doing the same mundane chores every day. I think that it’s the quality of the time spent in nature that slows down my worrying and speeds up my pleasure. God has so many abundant gifts for us, if we but look with an open heart and drink it in. Again, I have to thank my lucky stars for finding this slightly tattered old place with the rambling garden that is surrounded by the most gorgeous trees and views of paddocks and hills and mountains and glorious skies. And we’ve certainly tarted up the old girl too, especially in the garden. There is charm here by the bucketloads and it’s inside the house and all around it outside in every direction.

I actually think we’ve made this rickety old lady sing.