when i was young i remember my mother getting up early to walk around her garden. she has a beautiful property settled on the border of a woodland. it is very private and there are many different little micro-climates full of diverse plant life. she lives near by and i visit often. when i go to visit her she will say to me “do you want to go for a walk?” i know this means walk the garden. now that i have my own garden i too love to get up early and walk the garden. even though it has a totally different feel than my mother’s in size, and style, and setting, i still love this morning ritual. especially in the spring. i like to check out what may have bloomed overnight, if any seeds have sprouted, and make plans for what more needs to be planted. i laugh sometimes at how different my walk feels than my mother’s. as i walk down the corner sidewalk which runs between my gardens, the neighbors getting into their cars heading to work for the day give a wave, the jogger that runs by each morning gives a nod, the kids on the corner waiting for the school bus fill the air with chatter. but then the morning doves sitting on the telephone wire above give a coo, and a robin red breast hops by searching for breakfast, and i look down at a fiddlehead uncoiling at my feet, and i realize how similar, yes how similar.

https://secondandedgemont.com/2011/04/19/927/