My therapy garden

 

Hens & chicks spreading (click on the photos for a better view)

 

 

The beauty on the porch. Planted long before we moved in to this house....

 

Sunflowers on left - Clemantis climbing the trellis - Kale in the two pots

Zucchini flowering

I sit at the computer for many hours each day. I try to get up and move around now and then. Having a garden helps.

Mainers love to garden due to long cold winters where we get stuck inside far too much. Thus when spring comes colors begin to pop out of the ground. Much money is made at the garden shops from people who want to plant some signs of beauty.

Now that spring has sprung (and intense summer heat is upon us) I can go outside and tinker with my plants. I weed them, water them, nurse them and talk to them. It's great therapy for me.

A bonus is that we have a huge amount of birds that come to the garden daily looking for bugs, worms and other such good eats. I also have various tall objects in the garden so the birds have many easy landing spots. It's a joy for me to sit at my desk and see the birds swooping in.

The reality of the peace work I do is that positive results are hard to come by. So the garden gives me a rare chance to see a seed grow if I take good care of the plants. Last night I cooked a meal and had four different veggies from the garden in the dish. 

Our particular neighborhood has lots of good gardens - it's like a big park. We love to walk the streets and admire the many wondrous plants. 

Slowly but surely (we just moved into this house one year ago) I am finding more ways to grow food (for humans and animals) in our yard. (I know it is working because some animal came and ate the roses that began to bloom. Birds are eating the blueberries as they ripen.) 

Just this spring I planted a peach tree, four blueberry bushes and I've planted 50 sunflowers in various places. 

I moved many car loads of rocks here to accent the garden. In a way it is a work of art.

My oldest sister (I have 5 of them) wrote this morning, "You inherited your grandfather’s green thumb and love of gardening." My Italian immigrant grandfather grew his own grapes, made his own wine, and had a large garden at his home in Connecticut. It made me happy to hear her say that.

Bruce