The Garden

If I recall correctly as the end of May 2007 rolled around, the weather became increasingly hotter. It had been a mild winter and spring arrived early. The weeds throughout the garden grew twice as fast as the flowering plants.

I was so busy working on my new stone pathway that I barely found time to keep up with all of my necessary chores. I was determined to complete the walk along the north side of the garden, regardless of the heat and humidity.

I mixed concrete and poured it into a stone mold maker early of a morning while the weather was still bearable. By late afternoon and evening the stones were hardened enough to place in a continuing pattern inside a trench that wound around the central flowerbeds.

Covered in concrete dust and dirt, I sat down along the trench beneath the shade of the largest old oak to rest and contemplate on my next days schedule. The path was coming along slow, but nice and my effort was beginning to show some worthwhile effects.

I was pretty pleased thus far with the fruits of my labor and closed my eyes just long enough to imagine the path completed.

I could hear the tinkling of tiny wind chimes as a gentle breeze crept through the garden around me. Relaxed and completely at peace with myself, I watched a butterfly dance about the blooming clumps of flocks, iris, impatients and dianthus. It fluttered toward the fountain in the center of the flower bed for a drink while the sun played tricks on my eyes in the dribbling streams of water as it spilled down from the top tier into the pool below.