My Little Piece of Eden

I began the process of building this garden when my children began leaving home to pursue post secondary education.

Back then, the area was a small forest partly on our lawn but mostly in our field

A large, three trunked, old Manitoba maple tree was its focal point. Under its enormous boughs was the remaining sands of a large sandbox that was slowly being over run by a variety of ground covers and grasses.

An old apple tree, a lilac bush, and a number of oak and maple saplings covered the area. I trimmed and clipped and trimmed some more. I added a bench, a bit of a stone wall, a few hostas, and some English ivy.

A beautiful shade garden emerged. A canopy that provided shelter from the rain for the person resting on the bench.

Then, one day, while I was away, one of the three large trunks of the manitoa maple tree came crashing down, taking with it most of the oak and maple saplings. By the time I returned home, the remaining two trunks, now unsafe, had been taken down. A mass of branches and wood were all that remained.

I cried. I mourned the loss of my beautiful trees and the comfort they had provided me.

Then the sun came out. New opportunities poked out their little heads.

The hostas and the periwinkle began to bloom. The stump ends of the fallen trees , I covered with beautiful pieces of stained glass.

A Soul Sister project. Beautiful women creating beautiful art.

Another stone fence was added.

Friends shared pieces of their hydrangea bushes. My husband shared his lilies.

A pet cemetery found a home in the old sandbox.

Fairy houses found themselves a home.

Birds moved into the bird house.

Little feet run along the pathway that runs through the center of the garden.

Monarchs fly amongst the milkweed.

Lily of the valley and english ivy run rampant, as does the goutweed.

I celebrate my new garden as I pull weeds and apply grass clippings to keep them from coming back.

Mostly, I enjoy sitting on my bench.

As I celebrate my new sunny garden and the blessings it brings, I continue to mourn the loss of my shade garden and the protection it gave me.

Locust Blossoms

Our black locust trees are loaded with blossoms…..

Ten years ago, on the day of our daughter’s wedding, the flowers were even more plentiful. Blossoms, beautifully white, hung over the garden beds below. Flowers and blossoms, mingling.

Pea like white flowers, dripping from the boughs and the branches.

Bumble bees, drawn by the sweet honey musk scent of the flower, assemble into a buzzing orchestra high in the branches above the ground.

So many blossoms, so many bees, so much honey, in hives located in other trees.

The Carden Plain.

After traveling down a stretch of Wylie Road, through long flooded areas, dodging springtime potholes, and smooth gravel sections, we decided to hike a length of the Sedge Wren Marsh. So very pretty and noisy with the songs of the birds that we could not see. Narrow like an old cow trail, spotted with board walks and flat rocky spots.

I didn’t photograph the poison ivy growing alongside the path.

We loved our time exploring parts of the Cardin Plain, a large limestone plain with wetlands and woods, and large grassy meadows.

Walking through God’s Garden.

Praise smoke, Labrador violets, early buttercup, and western service berries were a few that we could identify.

On Bluebird ranch, the cattle called moooo, while the Canada Geese nested and rested all the while watching you!

Bluebird Ranch, a part of the Couchiching Conservancy, is a working ranch. We witnessed several herds of cattle, all who boldly stared us down as we quietly called their names.

The bird songs that we listened to may or may not have been the voices of those pictured above.

My favourite flower of the day, the brilliantly beautiful scarlet Indianm paintbrush. With this paintbrush, God painted a garden like no other.

Looking at the World

Looking at the world 
through rose coloured glasses. 
As the winds and clouds roll by.
Like thoughts and ideas,
they make smooth passes. 
My feelings;
like dots in the sky.

Surrounding yourself pleasantly 
is difficult sometimes. 
The flowers and the trees, 
are not always in rhyme. 
My expectations are like chimes, 
in what a world finds fair. 
So different is the light 
that my daydreams share.

Summer Time

Just a little bit of sunshine 
Just a little bit of rain 
Lots and lots of love 
And our garden
Is happy again.

Their faces are blooming 
Their stems tall and straight 
Swaying with the breeze
In our little piece of Eden
Doing as they please.

If people could be flowers
Instead of ivory towers
What a peaceful place
Our world would be.

June Flowers

Who is the poet of the flower?
The answer changes by the hour.

Petals of
     blue,
          and of white,
              and of pink.

The scent of  the flower,
Cause the poet to think.

The stem,
The stalk,
Where in
The flower's beauty 
Locks.

Grown
In sand, and soil,
And rock.

God's paint brush 
Moves,
With grace and ease.

Beauty, found and sought.