Saturday In The Garden – Conclusion

As I dragged the Lowes bags around to the front of the house, I noticed a little purple flower in a patch of shabby greenery. I looked again – there were dozens of tiny velvety purple flowers. Going around the corner I brushed up against a rather ungainly looking bush and noticed that it too had been flowering. Still clinging to the bush were full petaled, dusty pink memories of flowers. They were still beautiful, and reminded me of blossoms lovingly saved as memoirs from a special bouquet. Around the front of the house the cheery upturned faces of coral and yellow daylilies greeted me. I rested a moment admiring the vivid color burst swimming there in the middle of a sea of dead leaves. My eyes wandered back a little and I gasped as I caught sight of a dark, dark – nearly black – green bush overrun with brilliant red berries. They weren’t just red, they were redder than red. Fire engine red. Hot Camaro red. Lipstick and nail polish red. As I turned around to pick the bags back up, a snow flurry caught my eye. Snow? It was nearly 70 degrees out here. No it wasn’t snow, but a gracefully slender leafless tree erupting with petite snowy white blooms. How perfect.

Having deposited the bags curbside for pick-up, I headed back to the back yard to finish tidying up. I was smiling and there was an extra bit of pep in my step. What, just moments ago, I had thought was a dull brown and gray dying mess, had presented me with a glorious gift of rainbow colors and sunshine. I didn’t know it yet, but there was another gift yet to be presented.

I had every intention of completing clean-up duty. But I saw the hammock. It was such a perfect day to be outside. It was warm, but not too sunny. A light breeze would periodically set the various wind chimes to playing. There were unseen birds all around sending happy songs out to all who would hear. Before I knew it, I was settling into the hammock, gazing up into the darkening sky, and smelling the rain yet to come. One of the cats jumped up to share the hammock with me, while the other sat balefully looking at me from the ground. Silly kitty – there’s room for you, too!

The back door opened and I looked up to see who was coming out, half afraid that the dog had learned to manipulate the sliding glass doors. Happily, it was my daughter and not the dog that emerged. She looked around, saw me lounging in the hammock, and headed my way. Without saying a word she scooped up the baleful cat and the two of them wriggled their way into the hammock with me. For the next ten minutes we lay there lazily swinging in the trees. This, then, was my second, and greatest gift. A few precious moments of stress-free quiet time, shared with my teenage daughter.

A single large raindrop hit my shoulder. My daughter received a direct hit as well. She jumped up and headed for the house. I too rose, reluctantly, and headed for dryer ground, offering up silent thanks for gardens, earthworms, flowers and daughters.