Trowel Respite Welcome

Even though I wore gloves, dirt is under my nails.  High water overalls are mud caked at the knees and rear end.  Sweatshirt worn will never be seen in public again.  The grubby to begin with sneakers are now permanent residents of the garage. 

But…today I finished, today my flower garden received its final goodnight tuck.  Til spring I can look out the window without twinges of guilt.  No more can the neighbors point and voice neglect.  I’m free of weeds, dirt, invasive perennials and the plastic fairy who, at night, reads a pageless book by the glow of her lantern.  Good riddance all, I can wait to see you again.  Although, as I ponder, I think I’ll miss Miss Fairy, for she is such low maintenance…

I’ve tried hard to see God in the gargantuan garden that came with the home we bought five years ago now. With three ornamental trees, a pond and a circular winding path, it looks like someone scooped up a chunk of a horticultural park and planted it in our backyard.   Although the joys it doles out are refreshing, it affords me more headaches than heartwarming moments and the work is ongoing.  Winter is welcome, if only for trowel respite.  I know that sounds trite and hardly worth the snow and ice, but there it is.  The garden’s death season makes me smile…at least it does now. 

As I dig, rake and clip I should think about God and the wonders of His creation, I know, but small and dark entities find voice instead.  I resent that I work alone, that no other family members join in the chore.  I spit anger and frustration at poor defenseless hostas.  I whiz by the rosebush, despising its thorns, ignoring its blooms.  I dig the invasives and then dig again later…they have poor boundaries, how rude can they be!?  Why am I banished to this leafy hell, I wonder?  Does any beauty before me justify the coming days of muscle and back pain?  Is anything here worth hours of lonely, solitary labor? 

I may find a gardening friend next spring…someone who can help me see a garden’s beauty, someone who isn’t afraid to share a shovel and who appreciates the intricacies of dirt.  I don’t think I’ll ever see God in a plant, but I’m willing to try.  Yep, maybe that is why I descend to the garden year after year, to maybe catch a glimpse of God in His creation.  I think I need help, though…may God send help…


3 thoughts on “Trowel Respite Welcome

  1. At first blush, I envy the winding path and the ornamental trees…but I must admit that I am not a very faithful gardener, and although I love the result, sometimes the process is a headache and a half. I sympathize, and if I lived near you I would happily share the work for an equal share in the pleasure.


  2. This is a beautifully written post Jodi! And I’m feeling so justified as I share in your disdain for gardening. I envy people who use it as their mediation time… I kept thinking, ‘If I just keep trying, I’ll find my zen…’ Ha! My main motivation these days is to avoid embarrassing myself with all the weeds.


  3. Aww…good to know others sympathize with my plight.
    Would love your company in the garden, Kathleen, you seem so down to earth and easy going…I often wish I were more like you…
    fillforsix:THANK YOU, I needed to hear that in so many ways…thanks for saying what I think…nice to know there is another zen-less gardener out there…:)


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