My Garden

My Garden

I love my garden. I live in a somewhat isolated area, so it’s just for me. Each section brings lovely memories. Well, not always lovely, but they say broken hearts just make more pieces to love the next one. I liked that.

The patch of Monarda is Jeff. He gave me a hummingbird feeder our first Valentine’s Day together. It was so sweet, it was too bad we weren’t really soul mates, or more to the point, that Susan was his other soul mate.

The Rudbeckia, around the rocks, Teddy. Teddy was a wild one, always wanting to hike and camp. Weeks on end in the woods, paddling on the lake, snuggled up next to the campfire. Serene, peaceful. After a while, unfortunately, I realized I was the porter. He couldn’t carry everything, the weasel, and I had just replaced his last sucker girlfriend when she dumped him. Oh well.

The lilies next to the brick path, Alex. I met Alex at the library, our love of books igniting the spark. We would go to the local park, lie on a blanket next to a lily garden and read the afternoons away. Those afternoons were so sweet. I didn’t even notice my credit card was missing until I got the overdue notice… He said it was a mistake. It was…

I invited him to my house to “talk it over.” I actually liked these sessions too. Them trying to “explain” themselves, the creative ways they tried to be right. They never quite convinced me they were right, and I have this very heavy pipe that would end the conversations. After that, they were compost. Literally.

As I worked today, I was thinking of Bill. We just met yesterday. I think he’s may be the one! And if not…