First day back from a long weekend up north. Finally lumber out to the
garden as my lunch is heating up. I'm not too happy with the landscape
and wish I had more time (and knowledge, and money) to do what I really
want. There are still beautiful, meaningful things going on -- and
dreams abound to plan for. I stake a flopping aster, I sow some
liatris, I bend to smell a salvia and hear the booming drone of a
hummingbird with its strange, sharp calls peppered in. It lands on a
dead branch of a nearby tree. How rare to see them so still. The
hummingbird's head darts side to side for 20 seconds before it lifts off
and vanishes.
5 minutes in the garden. 5 minutes of waking to
imperfection. 20 seconds of being blessed, yet again, for stepping
outside of myself to find my world as right as rain.
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