Letting go of a garden for me is like prying one finger at a time from a ledge I’m hanging onto.  I’m invested in its creation, not so much materially as soulfully.  It represents my artistic collaboration with nature over a period of time.  As with a child, I look forward to watching it grow up, change, and mature.  I want to stick around as long as possible to see the outcome.  I never want to outlive it.  But at some point you have to let go of a child, a garden, the past, in order to move on.

What gives me perspective is watching all the adjacent woods and lands being stripped bare for development.  It’s only a matter of time before the destruction overtakes our property.  I can visualize the potential future and futility of remaining here.  This is not an eco-friendly environment or culture.  Between that and the disturbed, challenging soil I have to work with, it would always be an uphill battle.  So that helps me to let it go, and simply enjoy the evolving present.

Here’s some of what’s happening now, including Misu the Queen of the Closet, and a bee’s butt.