In the cool of the day

It is no wonder that we crave the quietness of a garden. The air is filled with the scents of blossoms and the colors are a delight to our eyes. The mixture of light and shade, the arrangement of the plantings, the texture of the air, it is healing to our souls. A place of refuge, walled off, gated and closed except to the few we trust to linger with us for a brief time. We can be honest in our gardens, we choose what voices to listen to and we accept our limitations. The abundance of our failures makes for great fertilizer. As we forgive ourselves and others, the nutriants from the release fill our soil with potential for new growth. The seasons allow us to bloom with intensity, endure the heat of summer, let go of much in Autumn and rest deeply in the barren cold of winter. The garden becomes a rich metaphor for the wholeness of our souls we so desparately desire.