I mentioned loving my walk to my garden after work each day. Then I started (over)thinking how pretentious that made me sound. Despite her being a hero in my book for many things, Martha Stewart annoys me when she’s like “let’s stroll out into my garden” and it’s a 100,000 sq ft expanse of verdant overabundance complete with it’s own staff and gazebo.
My garden is a little raised bed. Well, two of them actually. One is my greenthumb husband’s garden, and the other is mine. That said, they are 6’x3′ diy raised beds. Despite not being blessed with a gardening talent, I can grow vegetables and some flowers….just not keep a indoor trendy plant (read: fiddle leaf fig) alive to save myself.
Despite spending time with spreadsheets and data on the daily, and loving things in rows and columns, my little garden was painted with seeds and plant-lings (not a word? what’s the word? share.) hither and thither. (I always wanted to use that phrase). Partly because I wanted something reminiscent of a rambling English garden, partly because my four year old is my assistant gardener.
So we have the raised bed, plus a pot of lavender on the side, plus another little crate of onions growing, plus a trellis of thyme and flower seeds from this thoughtful gift that I received. All, what, 25 sq feet of this conglomeration gives me a little peace to come to each day. We have this old weather-worn bench that sits between the beds, and I can sit there, and feel the sun for a moment and forget about the noise of the day.
That said, I captured these little moments the other day – just a few small moments of perfection that I needed. The bunny is a frequent vistor – I was able to capture it as it ran behind the bed wall back to it’s nest in our neighbor’s garden. It’s nice to see him visit, to know that his world isn’t disrupted and life goes on.
Living Aloud Allowed 
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