She pinches and clips and prunes. Waters and fertilizes and rearranges. She craves color and scent and contrast, the feel of warm and crumbly black compost in her hands, tender green leaves between her fingertips. She loves filling her old watering cans and emptying their contents on deserving, hungry plants. She relentlessly yanks out weeds. She gently handles the hanging flowers, and rearranges the perennials amidst rocks chosen to surround their beauty.
She feels like a back-to-nature girl, snipping fragrant mint leaves to flavor tall glasses of sweet iced tea. There's parsley and oregano to throw in the pot of simmering homemade spaghetti sauce. And chives for hot baked potatoes or tender steamed corn-on-the-cob.
She feels like a back-to-nature girl, snipping fragrant mint leaves to flavor tall glasses of sweet iced tea. There's parsley and oregano to throw in the pot of simmering homemade spaghetti sauce. And chives for hot baked potatoes or tender steamed corn-on-the-cob.
She gazes out the front door to admire the multi-colored geraniums that fill the old galvanized washtub sitting on the walkway made up of ancient reclaimed bricks. She sits on the back porch and relishes the blessings of nature, the gifts from above that cause her to give a quiet thanks for gentle beauty.
She's a wanna-be gardener. It's her therapy. Her reconnection to the basics. She meets God amongst all that grows and flourishes. He refills and refuels her smack dab in the middle of His creation. Even if she's more than just a bit foggy about the names of His green and pink and melon and white and red babies that she nurtures and handles with gentle care.
She cherishes this sweet connection with the Master Designer, the Creator of the garden of Eden, the Orchestrator of the seasons that spawn new growth. Those stolen moments offer her refreshment that she just can't do without, enlarging her perspective about what is good and right in this world, and nurturing her sometimes weary heart. The minutes here and there fortify her, still her, replenish her for the conversations ahead.
The wanna-be gardener is still as she savors all that is growing and lush and green. And she meets the Redeemer of her soul right in the midst of His magnificent handiwork, acknowledging once again, that He alone is God {Psalm 46:10}.
Linda
Very nice post. I like working in my gardens, too.
ReplyDeleteThe beauty and serenity of your gardens bless the dozens of people who enter Creekside's doors each week. Please be assured that all who come and go deeply appreciate your endless gift of hospitality.
ReplyDeleteYou're one special lady, Dottie!
your gardening post was special for me. Thank you...
ReplyDelete{sent via email}
I hear your heart ...
ReplyDeleteWhat beautiful poetry! Thank you :)
ReplyDeletemmm ... poetry ... I never viewed this writing through those lenses.
ReplyDeleteThanks for a fresh perspective, Jean!