I believe in the power of the earth and the plants spring from it. I know that I can walk out into the garden in the days just before spring, pull the rich full scent of the dark earth deep into my lungs and have the overwhelming urge to thrust my hands into it and plant something there. I have witnessed the miracle of a seed sprouting and becoming a flower. I hug trees.
We have all seen the beautiful lawns in our neighborhoods; the ones overflowing with flowers and bushes and trees, With grass greener than the tackiest shamrock on st. Patrick’s day and not a “weed” in sight. We pass them every morning on our way to school or work and maybe we don’t even acknowledge it. It’s a real shame that this is as close to a garden as some of us ever get because there’s a lot most of us could stand to learn from a green corner. Like the way it doesn’t care what your problems are; it just invites you in, sits you down, and lets you talk or just be quiet or what ever you need. It doesn’t ask you a lot of confusing questions that you don’t want to answer or lookdown on you for felling the way you do. It just listens. Or the way it doesn’t need a lot of pretty thing to make it happy. It just needs the sun and the rain and maybe a bee here and there.
A garden is a powerful place that most people don’t consider to be anything; like how almost every herb in the garden has a profound healing property and the ones that don’t usually have a secret power of their own like mandrake or bindweed (better known as morning glory) both poisonous.
So I believe in the garden and what it has to teach us. I think we should all plant a plant and talk to it. If it has something to say, maybe it’ll talk back.
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