In The Garden

The air is crisp and the sun is rising as the dew reflects the light’s embrace. Lettuce leaves stand erect, full of moisture and snap easily at the twist of my nimble fingers. Blackberry, the rabbit is about to be served his morning feast of freshly harvested greens, satiating his quest for daily sustenance. Green tomatoes weigh down the already drooping plants as the last crop of summer hastens its journey to harvest before the first frost of fall. As Gracie, the Golden Retriever pup races through the now grass flooded pathways between the garden beds, I’m reminded that my lack of weeding this summer has rendered a crop of grass as robust as the vegetables so lovingly planted and nurtured. The grass knows not that it is not welcomed. It was there long before the well crafted square foot garden. Nonetheless, its unwelcomed presence must be attended in anticipation of next spring’s bounty, so the task for this weekend is etched in the mind’s agenda. The weeds and grass must be diminished lest they overtake the well planned crop. I can’t help but recognize the uncanny symbolism between the weeds and the crop in the garden and the challenges I find in life. If I don’t stay ahead of the “weeding” game of exercise of body, mind, and soul, the “weeds” of stiffness, melancholy and self-absorption creep in to overtake the crop of ongoing agility, thankfulness, and care for the well being of others. Weeding done, I find comfort in the presence of myself, my maker, and others. My “weeding” requires attention and I am grateful that each day presents the opportunity to reflect on “how did your garden grow?”