Feeling the Love

How glorious it is to be appreciated! Whether it’s a sincere “thank-you” from a weary traveller when I offer my hard-won seat on the bus, or a warm hug from Granny after I’ve spent the afternoon weeding her rock garden, it all feels good. It’s all smiles and warm glows.

Unfortunately, like everything in life, love has its joys and its woes. Sometimes, it gets downright clingy. Take the love of my garden, for example.

Yesterday afternoon, it rained. No, let’s be candid, the clouds worked themselves into a snit and they poured rain all afternoon and on into darkness. When I tucked myself into bed and winked out for the night, I could still hear car tires swishing through standing water on the street outside my window.

Sometime during the night, the clouds decided they had punished the city enough…for now, and they should hoard some of their rain for later. After all, there might be an outdoor event this weekend with crowds of dry people that simply must be soaked from above. Not that I suspect the weather of evil intent. No, not at all.

Bits of blue sky smiled through the clouds this morning, and I couldn’t resist. I had one little chore that needed to get done in the garden and, being the perfect gardener that I am, I put on my gumboots and bustled out. In half an hour, I’d finished tidying the front area of Section Centre, and could stand back and admire the results. “Magnificent,” I thought, and the garden agreed.

The garden loved me for my efforts. To be more specific, the clay-heavy soil of the garden loved me. And to be brutally honest, the soil loved my boots, and not in a good way, but in that annoyingly clingy way. It needed to hug, and it needed to hug tight.


Not that I hadn’t tried to avoid walking on the bare soil. This is not my first season, after all. But, I was keen to get the job done, and sometimes you have to accept that not all love comes in the manner and from the source you most desire. In the end, who am I to deny the land an opportunity to reach out and thank me?


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