
My garden last summer gone to the wild- weeds as tall as the railings. My “ratty little garden.” I could not give it attention because of shoulder surgery. Life forced me to let go, let the garden reclaim itself.
“The garden I‘ve grown into…seems more a kind of Purgatory, but I love it. It‘s a rattly little garden, not much at all. But I can call it mine”(271).
#nunlit