Most everything in the garden is in flux at all times, but garden friends are steadfast. Through rain and sleet and snow and sun, they get older too, but without growing up and going away. They watch me bend and kneel and hear me creak and groan. With cuts and gashes, and broken legs and arms of their own, they tell me to keep on keepin’ on.
My garden brings out the child in me. Every spring I observe the expected, but exclaim over each bud and blossom with glee. Year after year it is as though it was the first time I ever saw a flower or a bunch of tiny green concord grapes. Of course every child wants playmates to talk to, even imaginary playmates will do sometimes.
In the middle of summer my garden friends sometimes play hide and seek with me. They disappear among the fruits and vegetables and flowers, peeking from behind the leaves, and pointing out the weeds.
In the middle of winter my garden friends call to me and tell me that they miss me. They remind me to tend to the compost even in bad weather and they hold on to special treasures, like hawk feathers.
My husband has given me many gifts, diamonds and rings and things, but he knows that what really makes me smile, just like a child, is when he brings home new friends to play and stay with me.
