I woke up this morning to the sound of rain falling . It was coming down in a gentle way and the world was gray. I was thinking how lovely it would be to linger in that state. Cash and Christopher Robin were in no hurry to find their day. What a pity, I thought, to be a human-and then I thought about the garden. Surely it was drowning.
I declare that this spring has been as rainy as any I remember. I love rain, more than most people do, but it sure can dash a gardeners’ dreams of marinara sauce for the winter! Such is the life of the one who tends the earth. I have learned a lot of life lessons in that little patch of earth . The garden at the rabbit patch is like an old friend and I have no secrets from it. I have prayed, cried and laughed in that garden. I have seen the sun rise on it-and the stars appear above it. There may be a “river running thru it” now, but the heart of a gardener is patient and hopeful. We learn to “wait and see” and we can accept the mystery-much like the way life works.
I had gardens in my youth, when the children were young. They were mostly disasters as I couldn’t invest the proper time in them. There was a lot of laundry back then-and supper is no small affair when you have five children. We managed to eat out of the garden, but not much got “put up” for winter-and the well-stocked pantry is one of the greatest benefits of a summer garden.
There is a rumor, that gardens are for “old people”. There may be some truth in that as now there are farmer markets everywhere. There was no such thing when I was growing up. If you had land, and didn’t grow a garden-well, folks might think you were lazy. Of course, I grew up in a farming community where everybody had a big yard and a tractor.
I went out last night as always -and I looked at the garden. Light rain was falling. Two bunnies were making their way through that swamp. They were sandy colored and I knew my former pet, “Cookie” was alive and well and I felt glad. She escaped a long while back and naps under shade trees , boasting about her liberty on summer days. I have taken a lot of bunnies that grew up and weren’t appreciated for that-Cookie was one of them. They had a little pen that allowed them to feel the grass under their feet and plenty of space to bask in the sunshine-as rabbits ought to. I don’t like to see anything caged up. My grandmother, lived at the rabbit patch in her last years. She would sit by the pen with iced-tea and watch them with amusement. I miss those days right now.
The sun is shining on the rabbit patch like it’s making up for lost time this afternoon. I have promised the garden that when school is out in a few days, and the river running thru it is dried up-that * “I will stand and see, ask for the old paths and where is the good way and walk there in.”