I Knew a Garden

detail from installation, ceramic, local earth


I once knew a garden.

She was lovingly tended by my grandmother.

There were ruffly-edged parrot tulips and raspberries hot from the sun.

Lilacs were growing in a special glade along with tiny Lilies of the Valley; her favorite.

The blackened earth tempted me to eat it

Which I did once but that is another story.

Huge turquoise matt-glazed urns held tastefully pink vining geraniums at the slate entry steps.

We, “GONNIE” and I bent low down to pick strawberries; pick, eat, pick, eat, pick, into the basket..

She swore at phantom rabbits and other pests.

I thought: “I want to be in this garden and tended by her”; my weeds removed and lovingly watched and watered.

Her garden was as close to church as she got.

We bent, pulled, tasted, dug, admired aloud, wondered, smelled, snipped and watered.

The whole day was communion for us; virtually silent yet always aware of the other’s location.

When it got hot I would go sit on a lovely garden bench in the shade of huge elms, meticulously trimmed grassy path and a carpet of those Lilies of the valley.

I was quite sure fairies used the tiny white blooms to drink from.

There rested a lovely and very old statue of Quan Yin purchased on some adventure from her world travels.

Every energy in that small glade quieted in her presence; rock, earth, air and all growing things.

Black dirt, fecund earth…

I remember you well.

You tasted so sweet to me.


4 Responses to “I Knew a Garden”

  1. Kerri on June 3rd, 2014

    Lovely. I enjoyed walking through your memories with you.

  2. Barry on June 5th, 2014

    Beautiful images! Amazing garden of gifts!

  3. gerry harty on June 5th, 2014

    sounds exactly like my grandmas garden…so lovely…xoxo

  4. Irene Peake on June 15th, 2014

    Grandmothers are so special…I grew up watching mine block hats (she was a milliner) and making cakes from scratch without standard measurements.

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