Heaven is my garden. It is the only place I can be in the moment without effort. My mind is still. I blot out noise of the world and hear birdsong. I block out worries of the day and find peace.
I slow down and take time to see the beauty surrounding me. My camera captures moments I want to remember.
I garden from the heart. The rhythm of garden chores comforts me, the repetition of planting, weeding, watering and pruning. I know what to do and how to do it. I ease into the work. Down on my knees, hands immersed in the earth, I stop to reflect, never taking the garden for granted. I am grateful.
Embracing the quiet calm, I close my eyes and inhale the sweet scent of viburnum and roses.
My gardening life follows the flow of the seasons. Spring ignites motivation. Green emerging plants are a welcoming sight. I rake up leaves, cut out dead wood and prune back branches. I mix compost with organic fertilizer and feed the plants.
Summer stimulates fulfillment. The garden blooms; flowers weave into others. The plants I nurtured in spring, nurture me.
Fall encourages contemplation. The fall garden in all her brilliance holds nature in her hands.
Winter inspires reflection.
My garden is a tapestry of colors, textures, and fragrance that wraps itself around my heart.