Outside...

I cleaned the pond yesterday and moved the garden statues around. I brought Rebecca over to the pond, as I thought she’d be a perfect fit there with her water vessel and all, but she appeared way too small in her surroundings there, and thus, I took her back to where she really belongs—atop the stump, at the skirts of the woods… big, old, worm-eaten and absolutely enchanting to me. 

I know that Mr. little mischievous cherub here is happy to be back at his old post again—on the bridge above the pond. Oh I could tell he was annoyed at me for moving him to another spot.  You see, he loves it here and has been patiently waiting for the fishes to show up for the longest time… all the while making all these wonderful plans in his mineral head about fishing in the darkest of nights under a full moon. It was unfair of me to moved him, you know... so I brought him back and he’s been his regular happy mischievous little self again ever since! ;)

I’ve been planting around the pond and on other flower beds every day… a little here, a lot there. Does sweat makes us lose weight? It sure feels like a sauna here. Every thump of the shovel on the ground is a boulder that needs to be fought and pull out. I sweat rivers and then, I go out to the front porch and rest for a little bit... just a little.  And enjoy a lot.  The newly planted flowers are looking lovely... 

I love to sit there. I’ve been doing that everyday. I take my lunch with me and have a picnic with myself and the birds out there. The blue jays have built their own personal paradise amidst the tall maple trees that surround the front of our little cottage… I love watching them swoon the air in twosomes, sometimes in threesomes… like sapphire flashes of thunder all day long… And I wonder what birds are those others whose songs sound more like flirtatious remarks to me than anything else…. pretty pretty pretty—they sing all day long. 

Everyday sunshine brings some new blooms to my wild garden… so it seems. I'd so love to know the names of all these lovely blossoms that come to my garden just to make me happy… I think these are wild honeysuckles... and it must be, because the sweet scent is like no other... it lingers in the air like some enchanted butterflies… I so love honeysuckles.  

I may not have a place as manicured as my garden in the roses was, but good is good, wherever it shows… on the ground, in the skies and even in a bramble of weeds!

I sit out there in my backyard, quietly studying my surroundings and can hardly believe I am actually living my dream.  A real dream.  A little white cottage, the shadowy, almost unfathomable woods right at the edge of the garden, the little singing creek, the pond, the marvelous, enchanting sunny warm days, the songs, the hymns of praises and tweets of birds in this paradise of brambles, with all the time of the world within my hands to enjoy it all… to enjoy it freely, without a shadow of remorse or obligations or fear of human’s rudeness and trickery… all of it to enjoy to the very core of bliss.   

My gosh, it's just so good. This precious gift. This feeling of amazed wonder, and absolute freedom and overwhelming gratefulness that makes me a nobler and happier human being… thank YOU… thank YOU, Father.

Life challenges all of us to go beyond pain, 

to realize we are more than physical works of art: 

we are also spiritual works of art.

I'M LINKING TO: FISHTAIL COTTAGE