There is certainly a beautiful mix and mess of things growing in my wild and wonderful garden …

I cannot say that digging in the garden brings me peace. To be honest, I really do not enjoy dirt under my fingernails. I used to wear gloves, but the soil finds its way under my nails regardless– so I now dig with my bare hands knowing that the messiness is inevitable.

There are constant interruptions while gardening — I rarely finish what I set out to do… I find myself deterred or sidetracked by pesky insects, stubborn weeds, poison ivy, and snakes (oh those snakes) and then there is the disappointment of things not turning out the way you had planned (Oh so much disappointment). Sometimes, (most times actually) I put all this work in and things don’t grow or bloom, despite my best efforts. Other times, the opposite happens and I accidentally plant something invasive that claims its stake before I have a chance to stop it. I have learned over the years that Mother Nature certainly has her own mysterious plans. I have not yet learned that I have little control over what happens in the garden.

Yet, I go back to the garden again and again — its song both relentless and gentle, echoing (like a siren) an enchanting melody of possibility and I find myself once again called into the realm of hopefulness.  Hopeful that I will witness some beauty – beauty that perhaps I might have had some small role in helping cultivate.

Always bracing myself for the wild of it all.

Then, a dragonfly lands on my arm – a gentle enduring warrior (of sorts) all brilliant and ancient in its design and decorated in golds and oranges – and I relax a little.  A hummingbird shows up in all its delight as it chooses to enjoy the nectar of the Hollyhock blossom that I was told would be impossible to grow – and I am left awestruck.

Finally,  my children join me in the garden, curiously digging, talking, planting, making a mess alongside me (oh what a beautiful mess)– reminding me to let go and soak in their presence and to cherish the dirt (that darn dirt) found under our fingernails. Attentive in their youthfulness, I believe they know that there is wisdom found in the dirt – which is why they do not mind digging so intently – with wonder and awe.

And today I am so in need of wonder and awe — the ways in which curiosity, mess and frustration can transform into something beautiful. I am grateful for all of the moments in the garden.

I am also a little sad – as I know all cannot stay here forever — as we are in the moment — joyful, laughing, remembering — young and covered in dirt.

All I can do is watch it all,  breathe it all in,  take in the beauty and design and dream.  So many moments planted in the beautiful mix and mess of things that are found growing in my wild and wonderful garden….

Now that I think about it… I really do not mind the dirt under my fingernails.

I love the garden.