It’s been a wonderful summer, creating my very own woodland garden where a tangle of thorns and briers used to be. Though the reward has been great, it hasn’t always been easy. After tons of overgrowth and mountains of muck were tamed and made into pretty little ponds, there were the rocks to deal with.
These stones have been in place since ancient times (the 1960s, when the subdivision where I live was built) and were loathe to be moved just so that I could plant silly azalea trees and blueberry and rose bushes.
The rocks’ resistance to change was so great, the effects were cosmic. The night after I moved a particularly large stone, the sky opened up and unleashed a lightning storm so magnificent, there were power outages for days.
Lesson learned: Do not mess with ancient stones and woodland sprites.
My sore muscles resisted, too. In fact, after one particularly challenging day, the muscles in my abdomen, neck, and back felt like the day I sprinted down a hill after my son, Nick, who was three at the time and on a runaway bicycle headed toward a main road. You wouldn’t think a downhill dash would be that much of a strain, but I was eight months pregnant at the time, so, yes, it was. Anyway, that’s what all the muscle strain felt like, but, like saving Nick from oncoming traffic, the woodland garden has been worth the effort.
I have accomplished much in my little garden this summer, not just bringing it to life, but also doing actual work out here. I had several writing and copy editing projects to complete this summer. Thanks to my new little garden, here is my commute to and from work:
As I head back to teaching this week, I’ll miss the crazy days of building and the lazy days of enjoying my woodland retreat. I will be back often, though, I’m sure. Where better to plan lessons and correct papers than here?