And just like that, I come back inside from the garden work to discover...
I haven't been completely inactive on the inside projects, of course.
It's just that re-caulking a tub or replacing a vent fan doesn't seem nearly as
enjoyable or satisfying as working outdoors or doing sidewalk chalk games with my ever-creative duo.
The daffodils have passed prime now, but of late my favorite garden moment of the day is stepping out front to gaze at this, the happy consequence of my two-year (and ongoing) battle with a profusion of unbridled English Ivy:
The phlox have recovered the ground usurped by the ivy, survived a very bitter winter (for our zone), thrived and now covered almost half of the hillside! I am so proud of these little ones.
Coming back from being covered in ivy is no small feat.
Yet they persist.
A friend commented to me the other day that every plant in my yard seems to have a personality when I talk about it. I don't know if it's just a quirk that gardeners acquire or whether it was the influence of growing up with a unique view of plants. But whatever the reason, she was certainly spot on. Every plant or tree says something.
These little phlox that I went to battle for have become like friends... the kind that don't give up on you, the ones you are willing to break your fingernails and back for in return. They are the kind that, out of the blue, do something simple and spectacular that makes the whole world brighter.
Perhaps the best part of gardening is the moment when you step back, not to think of what else to do or just to admire your work. No, the greatest part is stepping back far enough to see the True Maker at work. And that, friends, is humbling in the best and most hopeful way.
I am so grateful for these little ones. I admire them.
So to begin this beautiful April, I will share on Color Monday and take them as inspiration also:
And you? Do you know any particular flower or plant that gives you hope or courage?
Be well, and create beauty somehow for someone daily.