Walking down my favorite lane this morning, my thoughts flitted over the empty wheat field, and landed in the garden area near the end of Silver Dapple Lane. Mr. Whicker has given this end of his field to his tenants who live in homes on his land. They have a thriving garden full of corn, tomatoes, squash, beans, and tons of other veggie goodies.
The gardeners were out working in the morning cool. As I walked by I told them how wonderful their garden looked. The man gardener responded, “We’re just trying to keep up with it!”
Understanding his meaning, I turned to walk back down the lane and reflected on how his phrase was exactly what I’ve been thinking lately, and how very much like a garden, this life we live IS.
There was a time, in the cool of spring and youth, that I prepared the soil (college) in which many seeds would be planted for a future life. Those young twenties years seemed full of energy to plant and weed and tend the small garden.
But something crazy happens mid-to-late summer…the garden goes POOF and takes off in every direction. You can’t weed enough, harvest fast enough, prune enough, fight pestilence and drought hard enough. You lean on your hoe and wonder, “Why did I plant so much? I can’t keep up with it.”
I’m trying to remember, in my mid-to-late summer life these days, in my POOFED garden, that I am actually only an under-gardener. (Is that a real word?) There’s a Master Gardener tending the garden of my life, my husband’s life, and our children’s lives. It ISN’T all up to me.
I just need to keep weeding here and there, watering daily, harvesting what I can, and tending as I’m able.
P.S. The above drawing was made entirely with Neocolor Watercolor Crayons. Well, except for the little bit of the girl and my name in a waterproof fine-liner. But did you know, that you can splatter with these crayons?? Here’s how:
Take your wet watercolor brush (fairly wet, but not too sopping) and brush it several times on the tip of the crayon to get the pigment on it. Then splatter away! Too cool.
A tear of truth
Trickled down my cheek
I grasped for air
That illuded my heart
The artists truth
Always draws out
the deepest knowledge
And explodes it in our souls
Richard IIIrd exposes
the unweeded garden
The wrecked wall
The terror of ignorance
The lazy hands
But HE made us artists
And we become our art
Beautiful, dad.
Very nice drawing. I love the colors. Nice story as well and so very true.
… and again! 🙂 I love this blog that I have found today. And it is yours! 🙂
A very thoughtful post with a drawing that exemplifies it beautifully. nancy
Nancy, your wonderful, faithful comments here are a highlight to my day. Thank you so much for visiting and commenting!!!