The grass soaks my bare feet, each
blade, heavy with dew. I carefully
make my way to the garden steadying a mug of coffee in each hand. My eyes search for my husband, who is
bent over inspecting green fruit splayed side by side on a vine. Nestled in one corner of the garden are
twin cedar chairs attached by a little table. Early morning coffee, the sun on our faces, we are swallowed
by green foliage, large sunflower leaves broad, approaching the size of umbrellas
shade the north of the garden, squash vines with large yellow blossoms meander
with no clear direction of growth, just all over the place. Floral purples, pinks, whites and
yellows frame the perimeter of the vegetable garden.
Sitting still in
the garden is a spiritual experience.
Tiny seeds the origin, yet we, the gardeners are just beginning
to grasp the potential. The
element of potentiality is true for all living things. Sitting still and taking in the beauty
makes things all so clear.
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