Home is Where There is a Garden To Tend

In our small garden, I've learned to enjoy a new level of quietness. It is the opposite of cranking up the volume until all sound is blaring noise. Instead, I tune into a silence so deep, I seem to hear the earth breathe. This was something I never planned to do; it seeped into my routine slowly, seed after seed. I feel like a child, delighted by soil; but I also feel older, no longer perturbed by slowness. It takes time to grow-- an old lesson returns in a new form. Everyday, I count cusps; I look forward to when they become new flowers or leaves. Before I know it, a year will pass and I will begin to count fruits. I am enriched by the constant act of small kindnesses. By taking care of these plants, I am also caring for myself. I have something to hope for the next day, even if it's just a tiny leaf. Through this, I know why love is patient. I see why a garden is the greatest metaphor for love.