Enter: The Garden

My landlord's family has a garden. More like, had a garden. One of their grandparents comes over each spring and plants seeds. He loves planting things. He just doesn't like helping the seeds grow. Normally the landlord's family weeds, hoes, rakes, and harvests. This year the family was too busy to care for the garden after Grandpa left.

I looked out across our lawn and saw a small jungle growing.

Asparagus 

mingling with dandelions, 

both flagrantly gone to seed; 

daylilies 

lost among groping vines; 

tomatoes

engulfed by wild spinach. 

And of all of them,

only the squash wrestled back, 

gripping the reaching weeds 

in its opportunistic tendrils. 

Daunting? 

Oh no. No.

Alluring.

The garden looked like 

my childhood home -
in the rainy season, of course.                                                        

So I asked the landlord's wife if I could please take care of the garden. All summer. Yes, all summer. No, I didn't want to be paid. No ma'am, I wasn't just trying to be charitable. When I was growing up my mother had a garden... yes... ummm hmmm... yes she did... well once in a while we got things out of it... and once in a while, they weren't just weeds... no I didn't like weeding back then... but I kind of want to do it now. It would be something familiar to do.  And I've been bored on my days off. Yes ma'am, I do mean it.

More to follow... I have to get up at 5:45 a.m. tomorrow.

Image by Yellena James, linked from http://www.etsy.com/listing/59819536/breeze-print