A garden away from the garden...

Cold and wet in Minneapolis... in a modern and alive Downtown full of beautiful sights, and how lovely and romantic it is to me strolling the streets of this modern city on chilly mornings, under the vapors and sprinkles of a light rain.  Surrounded by tall buildings where the world is reflected twice before your eyes on mirrored buildings and lovely shops with lovely courtyards, where pigeons roam about little tables looking for food....  I love it, I just love this feeling of freedom and newness all around you, the feeling you get when you go to another country and let you heart wander freely as you discover lovely little places in a diversity of thoughts....   

Back home.....

The other morning while strolling the gardens I saw Tigerlily... not a ghost, I should say, for she, or he, was most alive indeed, and it stood for a minute or two as she or he had always done to look straight at me before disappearing among the shrubbery in the woods.  I guess I had been wrong, and most probably it was another feral I saw laying on the road dead, that just looked very much like Tigerlily, and for that, I am thankful.  

I haven't seen Winter, or that other white cat, and I miss seeming that bright flash of white in my mornings. 

We worked so hard in our gardens these past few weeks.  Mowing the lawn and weeding and spreading seeds and planting a new lawn, growing things, fertilizing, watering and planting the vegetable beds...

The Fisherman was finally able to plant his tomatoes now that the weather has finally settled into its warmer mood, and all the lovely vegetable and herb beds are looking wonderful with all kinds of nice things growing in there...  I have to give all credits for it to the Fisherman, because he is the one in charge of all the vegetables and herbs growing in the garden.  I just water them, and later eat them and use them in my cooking...

I got the most romantic little bouquet from the wildflower fields the other day.  How nice, and wonderful, and how blessed I am to have someone who still thinks of me enough to want to stop what he's doing and collect little heart-felt mementos for me...  this, he brought to me the other day while mowing the lawn outside....  a spray of wildflowers that reminded him of me...

I've shopped off about three hands worth of length of my hair...  I needed to do that in order to heal those ends, but it certainly takes some getting used to not having your hips being caressed by the softness of hair as you move...

The new path I created early in the year is doing well now, and the alliums I planted there just a few weeks ago are already breaking ground; their happy filament like heads showing up healthy, and green, and I'm glad I decided to remove the begonias I had originally planted there, as they were disintegrating right in front of my eyes regardless all the care I gave them.  I'm not trusting these flowers any longer for an early planting and might have to experiment if they'd do any better planted later in the season... 

A mystery plant is growing in my garden.  It is a most annoying and thrilling thing not knowing what it is, or what flower it'll be gifting you with...  I'm not surprised though, by this mystery, as much as I am with the woman who gave it the small cutting, right when we moved to our little white cottage. Who was she, and why hadn't I seen her ever again?  All I know is that her name was Jane, and she was blond and gifted with a strange beauty in her own right.  She reminded me of  some woman from another era.  Her countenance already erased from my mind, as I only saw her once.

The Queen Elizabeth roses I planted last spring are blooming... huge blooms larger than the palm of my hands, and as you can see on the background, our little white cottage has given birth to a very small version of its own, which it is actually our new shed.  We were finally able to leave that rented storage unit for good, and what a catharsis it has been being able to get rid of a lot, if not most of the things we brought 'from the past' that I had insisted on keeping with me... Holding on to stuff imprisons us; letting go is freeing.

We are not our stuff; we are more than our possessions.  Our memories are within us, not within our things.  

I have decided not to interfere with Nature and instead of fighting with it, let her design 'certain' parts of my garden as it wishes.  And I am glad I did, for this decision has brought to fruition a wild garden beyond my imagination, filled with lovely yellow flowers everywhere, that seem to sing leaning against the dark of the woods...

 "Each flower is a soul opening out to nature."  

-  Gerald De Nerval

"What grows in the garden, so lovely and rare?  

Roses and Dahlias and people grow there."  

-A Gardener's Diary  

See you soon my friend!