Flower Time
It’s nice when you can get back to nature by simply walking into your yard. I suppose it’s nice to have a yard. Lots of people don’t and some that do, don’t really care that much about getting back to nature in them. It’s mostly ornamentation. But I’ve always found refuge in my yards. It was me and my plants, and it was fairly easy to figure out their wants and desires and keep them mostly happy.
I got back to nature yesterday in my current yard. A while back, a friend gifted me a Scarlet Leatherflower, a delicate, native vine that he grew from seed. It finally bloomed this year and I’m cutting back Crape Myrtles to give it a bit more sun and encourage it. I also dug up some of my scarlet sage from beneath the big oaks and transplanted them into the new bed I started on the north fence beneath a Chinquapin oak that I felt could use the company at its roots to help it thrive.
I have no idea why my soul resonates like a rung bell when I walk out into my yard. But it tolls deep and hard as I walk along looking at my plants. There’s a thrill when I see last year’s Blackfoot daisy flowering, or notice sprouts on the Crossvine bit hard by a freeze. I think it’s how I keep pace with the universe and remind myself that hard winters, dry summers, and bad times usually pass to be replaced by flowers, soft breezes, and kindness.