Our gypsy garden is a riotous mix of flowers and vegetables, awash with subtle shades and bright colors, rich with fragrant scents and earthy odors. Siobhan and I spend a lot of time here--planting and planning, weeding and dreaming--with the warm sun on our faces and the gentle sound of bees in the air...
How wonderful it feels, to plunge our hands into the warm peaty earth, to let the soil gently sift through our fingers...How satisfying, to plant seeds like soldiers in a row, and watch them grow day by day...
How pleasant in summer to walk through our garden, to return with arms laden with fresh vegetables and herbs, to wash them and use them in cooking our evening meal...How rewarding, at summer's end, to have a pantry overflowing with sparkling jars filled with our garden's bounty... How comforting in winter, to sit in a warm kitchen while the windows fog and the hearty aromas of potato-leek soup and herbed bread fill the air...
Nowhere but in a garden can one find time for contemplation, for solving problems, for introspection-- while exercising the body as well as the mind, and providing food for the table at the same time. A garden is a wondrous thing...
No sooner did I bend over and scratch the soil with the hoe that I began to unearth bits
and pieces ... of my past. Memories forever rooted in time were clustered in my garden
consciousness like potatoes, waiting, crying to be dug up. ... I plant flowers and vegetables.
I harvest memories - and life.- Nancy H. Jordan, 199
and pieces ... of my past. Memories forever rooted in time were clustered in my garden
consciousness like potatoes, waiting, crying to be dug up. ... I plant flowers and vegetables.
I harvest memories - and life.- Nancy H. Jordan, 199
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