the yard is a good size, full of small alcoves and secluded spots. in the previous weeks, i would stroll through the walk-worn trails, trying to identify those plants that i knew by sight. it was still cold then, my breath coming out in small clouds, and many of the plants were still dormant. no flowers were budding, no trees showed their bright green spring growth; only the small azaleas were bursting with blossoms, both white and violet. i had grand ideas even then, but really i just enjoyed discovering what else lay in this dappled green space.
now, weeks later, after plenty of rain and warm sunshine, the yard is coming alive and is full of more surprises. where once it seemed there were only ferns, now an amaryllis bloomed three fist-sized flowers, red-orange and delicate, despite their size. on the outskirts of a tall and wide pile of branches, sticks and twigs, grew a sunflower about 4 feet tall. in one corner, a small, ruffled purple flower reaches toward the sun, making a nice compliment to the gnarled and black tree stump beside it. its this spot that seems especially isolated to me, because the trees and palms nearly enclose the space entirely, and i feel a small shiver. i can't hear the road from here, and most of the house is blocked from view. i peer into the depths of the bushes, hoping to spot one of the rogue cats that travel this area, but all i see is blackness. there are glads pushing up their spiky leaves here and other small leafy plants showing promise of blooms. the earth is black and rich.
i put my imaginary stake in the ground with my personal banners flying and declared this land as my own.
No comments:
Post a Comment