my garden makes me happy

I got home from Marty’s about an hour ago.  I listened to a book on tape the whole way, Anne Lamott’s “Plan B, Further Thoughts On Faith”.  I only stopped once in 3 hours of driving.  I pulled over in Petaluma, like a good little driver, shut off the car and called Ivan to let him know I was closing in on him.  He was at his dad’s, and said he didn’t want to go get a pizza with me when I got back ’cause he had already eaten dinner, porkchops, and that they were about to watch a movie.  So I told him to come over after the movie.  He’s got a 3 hour orientation to attend in the morning for highschool.  Next Wednesday will be his first day. 

     When I got home tonite I went straight to the back yard.  I love to look at my garden, especially after I’ve been away for a few days.  A heavy layer of fog had rolled in and the sun hadn’t quite set.  The light and the cool temperature felt nice.  I went to the corner of the yard and stuck my nose into a huge dark red Oklahoma rose and inhaled.  Yum.  I bent down and picked and ate four ripe strawberries.  All five rose bushes are in bloom.  i love to put my nose into a rose and breathe, and feel myself infused with it’s scent.  The marigolds are my second favorites, it that’s possible.  The plants are tall and the flowers are bold orange and lemon yellow and they are fat and pungent and profuse and I love them.  My garden makes me happy.  It greets me peacefully when I come home, and gives me gifts.


About Zahara

gardener, cyclist, student, mom,
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