It had been 12 years since I’d owned my own home. After living in work housing, followed by a rental, I ached first a plot of land to call my own. and this past summer, the opportunity we’d been working and praying for opened, and we moved into our own home.
The joy was instantly expressed in the creation of a sub stair closet, with shelves; a freshly painted front door; a new fence, pallet by pallet; laying stone pathways; and forming a brick border to line the garden. I finally had a garden! I could plant flowers and watch them return year after year!
I planted some black-eyed susan and wandering jew out front. I found ferns in the woods and transplanted them into shady garden patches. I trimmed shrubbery and cut back overgrowth. I planted a hibiscus because we finally had a yard with some sun! And now, we’ve all worked to put in a full edible garden: blueberry bushes, strawberries, basil, mint, thyme, green onion, spinach, kale, squash, zucchini, cucumber, eggplant, tomatoes, and beans. We’ve even found citronella bushes to repel the mosquitos, and again my joy overflows. I tell the family I’m going out to check out the crops, though our garden square footage can’t exceed a mere 90 square feet. And today we harvested our first strawberry!
I experience a surge of creative juices tending this home. And when I am outside, trimming and weeding, digging and planting, sitting and listening to the birds, my lungs and spirit breathe in deeply and exhale gratitude.