I love neat and tidy gardens.
I really do.
Other people's neat and tidy gardens.
Mine is not and I think is not meant to be.
It has rather become a reflection of the chaos that often lives inside myself. One month short of 4 years on this journey I often still feel as if I am under construction or perhaps some sort of permanent emotional fog.
Or is it the evolution of an eclectically creative and scattered mind?
Still…the gift of the tiny rose from Rose’s Garden was a welcome bit of unexpected early spring serendipity. 
Some days I hardly recognize myself and I wonder who I will be in another 4 years????
I wonder would he recognize and love the woman who is and continues to become as he did the one who was in the imagined happenstance that I saw him again on this earth?
But...that is food for another post.
In the meantime, I reckon I'll be like my clumsy Charlie Dawg rooting around among the wild blackberries out in the back 40.
Should I be plagued by the desire for order...I can just look across the fence into Old MacDonald's well tamed parcel of real estate. (He's the only person I know who would neatly groom goat and bunny poop)
(All photos taken by me withing the last 7 days using either my Nikon pocket camera or himself's Sony big-boy digi-cams.)
