My Favorite Garden

My Favorite Garden

I woke to the sound of rain, desperately needed rain, after weeks and weeks of dry weather.

There had been no prediction of this rain, everyone was paying attention to every forecast hoping there would be. All our summer gardens were dry and shriveling, lawns full of brown splotches, a water ban strictly enforced. They had made hopeful predictions now and then, but somehow our town always managed to be just off the edge of the trajectory, missing out.

I jumped out of bed, running to open the window. Rain, lovely rain! I grabbed a belt to tie back the curtain so I could just lay on my bed and listen, my mind racing with excitement as to how it would save what little I had left.

As I there in my bed, listening to the lovely sound, I turned to check my clock. I wanted to know how long before daybreak, before I could watch the transformation of my shriveled up yard getting it’s much needed drink.

The side window, right next to my nightstand, suddenly caught my attention. It was oddly quiet. Maybe sheltered from the rain? Curiosity finally got the better of me and I got back up, walking around and opening it. No rain. Rushing back to the front window, still pouring.

I flew down the stairs and outside! Crap! Apparently I had forgotten to turn off the spigot, and my hose had burst a seam… water gushing from it, spraying up and hitting my front window. Oops…

It was certainly not intentional, but I ended up with one lovely garden. Not wanting to actually admit the truth, I just let people believe I’d watered it by hand daily so I would have, at least, one garden to enjoy.

Ten years later, it’s still my favorite.