It is storming outside. I awoke to thunder earlier this morning.
I wish they’d clean the gutters because they’re always filled up and water sluices off them onto my patio. It makes such a mess. Not much gets done around here. Same old, same old no matter who owns this property.
I didn’t think rain was in the forecast, so I’m glad I took photos yesterday evening. The pots are all filling out nicely now and flowers are trailing over the sides of the containers.
I think this year may be my favorite patio garden set up. The purples are so calming.
The yellow flowers raise their energetic faces, peeking out here and there among the various shades of purple. Little bursts of sunshine.
White flowers are sprinkled in less often here and there.
I sit outside (not for long; I always find something I need to do or a flower that needs deadheading) and listen to the wind chimes and the water fountain.
I close my eyes and lean back and it doesn’t feel as though I am in the middle of a big city. I am transported back to that little country house where my granny grew a vegetable garden but still made time to fill her flower beds with flowers.
I’ve always wondered if I went back and found that house if the vegetable garden, if it’s still there, would it look so vast?
Or maybe like many things you recall from childhood, it would just be a regular sized space that only appeared large to a child.
I’m not even sure I could locate the old home or it might even have been turned into something else by now. That was a long time ago.
We moved to town when I was around 12. Things didn’t seem as magical in retrospect, though I was glad to be closer to the library. I had about worn out my old bike riding into town most every week to get more books.
I remember the awe I felt when I walked in. It was just a small town library, nothing fancy. But within its depths I could choose books that would transport me around the world. I could lose myself in fictional places where mysteries were solved and tied up neatly at the end.
My love of books and plants has stayed with me. I still love reading and gardening as much if not more now in my sixties.
The world is ever changing. But I can always lose myself in a book or be out in my garden digging and tending to little seedlings that grow into beautiful plants and flowers.
My utopia. Right here in the middle of the city.
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