Oh, I cannot wait any longer,
the need is much too strong;
Longing fills me
and I cannot stop thinking about it.
I need to feel it, sliding between my fingers
gently caress, feather soft;
breathe deeply, inhale, and shudder with pleasure...
I'm talking about digging in the dirt and planting..geesh....
get your mind out of the gutter and into a garden, lol.
I may only be able to plant in pots, or in the small mulched area out front,
but it's better than nothing. I am also seriously thinking about house plants again.
My plant destroyer kitty stayed at Ford Circle, so hopefully Gilligan will be well behaved.
Maybe a palm, or fern, or perhaps a miniature rose on the kitchen window sill. I cannot help it,
I need that physical connection to the earth and plant life, it's like therapy for me.
I miss the gardens that I have had to leave in my past. My garden in Maryland stretched the length of the sidewalk leading to the front porch. I planted many perennials over a 10 year period, old friends that came back to greet me each spring and summer. People actually stopped when driving by to ask me about the flowers or tell me how pretty it was.
Every Saturday, after a day filled with mundane housework, I would park my butt on the sidewalk and free my friends of weeds, grass, and gently groom, hand raking to loosen packed soil. It was the best part of a busy day, quiet time, thinking and nurturing.
Everywhere I have lived I have left a part of me behind. Be it a few bushes, lilies or a full garden, something of me stayed. Ford Circle had to be the hardest soil to work with, gravel and shale in every inch. Southern Maryland's clay was a challenge as well, but I took it on each year. California's dusty and dry dirt surprised me (likely due somewhat to a old rabbit hutch dumping ground) in growing an amazing cherry tomato bush. It was my first garden, amidst scrub grass, sad eucalyptus trees ( pu..they stank) and a tired small gray house. My garden stood out like a rainbow of color thriving in a soil that needed almost daily watering. Transplanted Cannas from my Mother's garden were an explosion of yellow on the side of the house, big bright blooms.
Do I think I will leave my mark here? Not likely, this garden does not belong to me, so no drastic changes. But that won't stop me from sneaking a few annuals in. Spring has sprung as my Grandmom used to say.
the need is much too strong;
Longing fills me
and I cannot stop thinking about it.
I need to feel it, sliding between my fingers
gently caress, feather soft;
breathe deeply, inhale, and shudder with pleasure...
I'm talking about digging in the dirt and planting..geesh....
get your mind out of the gutter and into a garden, lol.
I may only be able to plant in pots, or in the small mulched area out front,
but it's better than nothing. I am also seriously thinking about house plants again.
My plant destroyer kitty stayed at Ford Circle, so hopefully Gilligan will be well behaved.
Maybe a palm, or fern, or perhaps a miniature rose on the kitchen window sill. I cannot help it,
I need that physical connection to the earth and plant life, it's like therapy for me.
I miss the gardens that I have had to leave in my past. My garden in Maryland stretched the length of the sidewalk leading to the front porch. I planted many perennials over a 10 year period, old friends that came back to greet me each spring and summer. People actually stopped when driving by to ask me about the flowers or tell me how pretty it was.
Every Saturday, after a day filled with mundane housework, I would park my butt on the sidewalk and free my friends of weeds, grass, and gently groom, hand raking to loosen packed soil. It was the best part of a busy day, quiet time, thinking and nurturing.
Everywhere I have lived I have left a part of me behind. Be it a few bushes, lilies or a full garden, something of me stayed. Ford Circle had to be the hardest soil to work with, gravel and shale in every inch. Southern Maryland's clay was a challenge as well, but I took it on each year. California's dusty and dry dirt surprised me (likely due somewhat to a old rabbit hutch dumping ground) in growing an amazing cherry tomato bush. It was my first garden, amidst scrub grass, sad eucalyptus trees ( pu..they stank) and a tired small gray house. My garden stood out like a rainbow of color thriving in a soil that needed almost daily watering. Transplanted Cannas from my Mother's garden were an explosion of yellow on the side of the house, big bright blooms.
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| Ford Circle |
Do I think I will leave my mark here? Not likely, this garden does not belong to me, so no drastic changes. But that won't stop me from sneaking a few annuals in. Spring has sprung as my Grandmom used to say.
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