I woke this morning to a fresh coat of snow on my balcony that sculpted the pots from my summer garden into frosted cupcakes. It reminded me of how my former garden would look covered in snow. I could almost feel those virgin steps into a pristine tundra full of serendipity.
For the first time in a while, I missed having a garden whose winter bones called me into the cold to capture its quiet beauty. Someday soon, perhaps I’ll have another plot to call my own. My soul seems to be beckoning nourishment from the soil once again.
The flowers of summer will soon give way to autumn foliage, so I’m soaking them in while I can.
Good morning, my friends. As you go through your Saturday, take a moment or two to notice the details of life around you. Often when our big picture is filled with angst, we need the little things to remind us to be grateful.
Variety is the spice of life, right? My favorite garden combinations are those that provide both unity and uniqueness. Kind of like knowing our common bonds as people while still embracing our differences. Life seems most beautiful when I constantly choose to surround myself with an undulating tapestry of commonality and contrast.
Summer is waning and my balcony garden is showing the wear and weight of the season. Beauty is still is copious supply, though flecked by the scars of its journey. I can hear the drumline of the Marching Illini in the distance, marking the cadence of a new season. There’s both hope and fear in the unknown that lies ahead, but I’m ready to embrace it.