My days...

I have never taken so many showers in a day in my entire life… never been so soiled in the skin so contented in the heart… and every morning I will go out there and do the same… go to my garden, remove more sod, open a new path, fill wheelbarrow after wheelbarrow of sod and broken roots and debris and all sorts of unimaginable things that were left behind by previous owners… among the things I have found, cans of beer by the buckets, a muddy piece of some carpet remnants, a dilapidated men's shoe, bottles of pills… oh I’m sure the Walking Dead people lived here at some point... out from the privet they must had come out every night growling and spitting… it was a world overrun by zombies I’m sure…

But I’m cleaning all that stuff up… taking all that trash somewhere and discarding it, coming back, planting some more plants, moving some other ones, pulling more weeds—for goodness sakes would I ever, ever win this battle with weeds? When I get so tired I cannot move a finger any longer, I would then go inside, take a shower, prepare me one of my power juices and rest for a little bit before the whole ordeal begins again, and then again… 

I have new wrinkles tattooing my face, my skin is sun-toasted, my hands callused my spirit elated and all optimistic and jubilant and, days are too short for this God’s given glee and nature produced pleasure inhabiting my soul… not enough daylight for contentment to fully unfurl and stretch out and be savored it as one should savor it, and wear it, too, upon the soul like a brand-new magical gown sent from heaven.

I am thankful for nights that turned into mornings, I am thankful for what I have and for what I don't have.... thankful that my garden is finally starting to look like a garden...

Mr. Cottontail here is up to something oh I know… he’s been here once or twice this week and always entreating me to follow him across the bridge at the bottom of the garden, where he usually disappears behind the bushes.  Where does he go to—I want to know.  Perhaps next time I see him I will muster all the courage I need to follow him across the bridge to the magical forest kingdom?  We’ll see… oh will see.

This day is yours to imagine my friend... where will you begin?

LINKING TO:

FISHTALE COTTAGE GARDEN PARTY