I was a little bit cranky yesterday. A tad out of sorts. My nerves were jangly, my throat was sore, and everything was just feeling…too much.
But as I left work, I was greeted by a swirly, twirly summer breeze and a sun that whispered, “let’s play.”
So I pulled the windows wide, threw the sunroof open, and jammed down the open road to the peppy beats of the new Scissor Sisters album.
I planned to go home, scoop up the munchkin and head out to play.
But then I got stopped at a red light. And my eyes were drawn to the bright blue Lowes sign beckoning to me from the other side of the highway.
I thought about my poor, sad little gardens with gaping holes left by plants who didn’t survive the winter. In my mind’s eye, I saw flats of colorful annuals waving in the breeze, calling for me to take them home.
So I pulled in, grabbed a cart, and spent a blissful 30 minutes lost in the flowers. A salvia went into the cart. Followed by some phlox. Before long, some cute little rudbeckias joined them. Before I knew it, the cart was full.
Practically skipping as I left the store, I piled my haul in the car and brought my new friends home.
But just as I plunked the first vinca plant in the ground, the munchkin arrived. It was time for dinner.
In the end, it was almost nine before I made it back out to the garden. The sun was setting, the crickets were chirping and the weeds were disappearing under a blanket of darkness.
But I didn’t care. My soul needed some dirt time and I was darn well going to give it some.
Soon my ears were filled with the sound of my shovel chunking into the soil. My hands eased the plants out of their pots, untangled their roots and placed them gently in their new homes, rejoicing in the feel of the dirt clumps crumbling into submission around them.
And my mind quieted, soaking in the peace of the garden.
One by one, the jangling worries fell away. My thoughts cleared. My soul let go of some of the pain it had been carrying.
By the time it got too dark to see my fingers on the handle of my trowel—so dark that I had to admit defeat—I could breathe freely.
The garden had worked its magic. Even in the dark.