Dear Sweet Garden,
Thank you for tea and infusions; tea that nourished my bones, my brain, my heart, every cell, my spirit! I know I need to drink from you every day and not just sometimes. I have missed you, Little Wild Garden, since I had to move away from you, but I know your spirit and personality are recreated wherever I am. You will be where I am, and you will give me what I need. I trust you. God made an abundance of plants and creatures and called it a garden, and that is where he put his first human creation. I know you are a powerful place of refuge and quiet and life, and even, sometimes, death.
I have started over, and this time it has truly been baby steps to find you again. Maybe people think I am crazy for talking to you, garden, but it is quite the opposite! You very often kept me sane. You were a reprieve during many stressful times, and even times when I tried to recreate you in places that were transient and not right, you gave me peace and beauty. Dear garden, I love you!
When I look around me now, the beginnings again of you, garden, I see a plant that has flourished near me always, and even grew by random seeds I tossed out this past spring: rosemary. I know I need you. I have always known that. The more the better! You have been by my side for nearly three decades. I see two native plants now, prolific and healthy: the pine tree — two varieties; and pipsissewa (wintergreen). The landscape you have chosen for me is new to me, but it contains elements of two places I have loved. I grew up among the pines. I am glad you are here. And you have a forest floor thick with leaves and pine needles and dark, rich, decaying matter, springing forth mushrooms and fungi. I think we will get along well together, you and I.