Growing Stories

I spent Saturday afternoon on my hands and knees working in my garden, clearing out rose petals and dead-heading spent blossoms. It was the most enjoyable couple of hours I've spent in a long while:  bee buzz, butterfly wings, birdsong, dragonflies, moist earth, spicy stems, sweet perfume; these are the keys that open my soul.

A golden day can tell a dark tale . . .

. . . see how perception changes everything? A leaf falling from a tree onto the forest floor makes a gentle sound and is a lovely thing, unless you are an ant. Then it is a piece of the green sky: broken, dark, loud--disaster!

Still, whichever way you see things, I wouldn't open that door in the garden wall--the tiny one hidden behind the lilies that has been locked for a hundred years. The one just big enough for a rabbit but not a fox. Who do you think made it? No, you're wrong; only humans can make doors. But, here is something they know: doors are not only a way in, they are also a way out. The next time you are lost in the wood and encounter a frog or a bear or a wild dog, it may be a prince from that other place beyond the garden wall. Will you pet it? Give it a kiss? Run for your life?

What if the people we meet everyday are more wonderful than we perceive them to be? What if their wrinkles and fat and tight shorts are just a disguise? What if everything is love and miracles? The falling leaf, the green sky, the wild dog, everything.

Susan <3