Gardens are such a gift. I have always been fascinated by them.
I remember the first little flower I planted. I wouldn’t say I’m the best keeper and soother of green things though. I’m pretty sure I gave up watering it after a week.
And things haven’t improved much even after all these years. My room now houses my lovely little cactus, Spike, and an air plant, Hector. Technically it is Hector the Second. Somehow I managed to kill a plant that doesn’t even require water. We blame the moss in his bottle – it was obviously too suffocating. And now Spike is on his way out. I blame his lack of soil. But really, it’s probably just me and my lack of a green thumb. Man I wish I had that thumb.
I also love community gardens and the whole idea of them. What better view in a vacant lot or street space than some garden beds laid with straw, and delicious things sprouting from everywhere?
Dad has a great veggie patch. I thought I would have one too, but now I reckon I would be the bad omen it doesn’t need.
A community garden may be my best option to eat food that comes straight from my doorstep, use a cute tin watering can, and have a listener when I sing. Until I move somewhere that this can actually happen I’m just going to stroll the burbs and suss out the delicacies on offer – starting with these ones. Maybe pinch a few things on the way.
(Image from here)