Most everything in the garden seems like a miracle. This little plant I mail ordered looks just like it did in the pages of the catalog. Seeing these tiny blooms lifted my spirit.
I wonder if, when, and how my Florida azalea will turn from bare sticks stuck straight up in the air to this magnificent show of yellow sunshine, with the scent of honeysuckle:
The light yesterday afternoon was amazing. Soft, like a caress, each petal opened to it as if in a kiss. I wish I could have captured the light with my camera. I tried.
We acquire skills. We learn how to care for our plants, our soil, our gardens. But it is still amazing how fast a plant can grow, how beautiful it can be, how much difference one year, or even one day, makes.
My garden constantly surprises me. I look at it daily, several times a day sometimes. And still, a plant has the capacity to take my breath away when I see it as if for the first time. The garden is constantly changing. Tomorrow will be different. Tomorrow will bring another wonder.
As each day brings change, each year the garden evolves. I know that this year will be special to me in some way. Next year will be different, but it will still bring just as much joy. That is a wonderful gift.
"I used to visit and revisit it a dozen times a day, and stand in deep contemplation over my vegetable progeny with a love that nobody could share or conceive of who had never taken part in the process of creation. It was one of the most bewitching sights in the world to observe a hill of beans thrusting aside the soil, or a rose of early peas just peeping forth sufficiently to trace a line of delicate green." - Nathaniel Hawthorne, Mosses from and Old Manse