Wet and Aggressive Corella challenges Magpie

Wet and Aggressive Corella challenges Magpie

Wednesday, 17 August 2016

WEP Garden Flash Fiction Challenge

WEP Gardens Challenge

The WEP (Write, Edit, Publish) Challenge so generously hosted by Denise Covey and Yolanda Renee is back.

This month the focus is on gardens.  We are asked to create something about them - and can do so through fiction, non-fiction, photography...   Which leaves it wide open.

If you visit here and click on any names with a DL next to them you will be taken to some wonderful pieces.




This stunning badge was one of two created by Olga GodimThis one looks just like the garden I try and create from the jungle at home.

Gardens are one of my obsessions.  I pour more energy, time and money than I have into mine.  I bleed for it (and in it) and sweat over it.  And drool over other people's gardens.  So this challenge should be right up my street.  Except it wasn't.  As is not uncommon, my mind took me to some strange places.

***

The Garden of my Mind.


An unreliable mind map.  Time?  Direction?  Season?  Terrain?  Climate?  All subject to change.  With little or no warning.  It is a crowded space, and rarely completely safeProtective clothing is mandatory (and rarely worn).  Gloves, hard hat and closed footwear should be worn at all times.  And will sometimes be inadequate. 



There is beauty and ugliness, birth and death, growth and decay.   At some times and in some places they co-exist.  At other times there are bitter supremacy battles. 



A mixture of organic remains, clay and granite particles, sown with an occasional diamond is laid down as soil.  It is rich, uneven and multi-coloured. Friable and deep or barely concealing jagged edges.   Sometimes almost black, at other times golden or rainbow hued and sparkle laden.  Experience makes a fine compost.  My blood, sweat and tears fertilise the ground when love and laughter are in short supply. 



Cherished memories, hoarded hope, shards of beauty, husks of the might have been,  forgotten dreams and regrets form a thick, thick mulch. Negative thinking worms aerate it.

Rainbows, stars, the moon (in all her phases) and the sun share the sky. 



There are (relatively) ordered areas and largely unexplored Wild Woods.  There are sunny glades, dark dank corners, wastelands and areas lying fallow.  



The beds are crowded, and the borders largely unmarked.  Some plants are carefully chosen and nurtured.  They are fragile and may or may not survive.  Some seeds arrive on the back of  a book, a smile or other pieces of beauty.  Torpedos of media spin explode others into the garden.  There are  wind-blown volunteers (sometimes weeds and sometimes precious) and some which have been planted by people who have been allowed (or have taken) time in my head.  This last  category are slow-growing plants, deep rooted and resilient.  And often poisonous.   The sticky seeds of forget-me-nots take root everywhere.  Welcome or not. 






In an open sunny clearing, the roses of confidence thrive, jostling for space with dancing daffodils and elegant lilies hinting at sophistication.  Battalions of tulips salute the sun in colours begged, borrowed and stolen from the rainbows.   Ripe and fleshy orchids flaunt their sensuality cheek by jowl with frigid snowdrops.  Knowledge vines climb slowly up walls.  Nostalgic granny's bonnets nod in the breeze. 




In that same crowded bed the roses are covered with the black spot of inadequacy and snap dragons drip unkindness and malevolence from their pretty mouths.  Poppies wither and fade.  Spikes of good intentions emerge from the ground, are neglected and fail to set seed.  Lies and half truths bloom and flourish. A leaf litter of chaos and confusion is thick  and slippery underfoot.  The pansies of paranoia chatter incessantly.  Sanity and its hybrid serenity are shallow rooted and wither under the onslaught.  Bickering, niggling nettles run rampant.
 

Shy violets of hope echo the stars on grassy knolls.  A precious few will take wings and fly but most are smothered by disillusion and despair, which ripen in hours and spread faster than  thought. 
.  

Shoals of ideas dart through clear, fast moving water.   Most escape but some are caught and farmed. 

Fat tubers of resentment are fed by sullenly bubbling fetid and greasy  pools.

The tide rushes in, leaving giant piles of rank smelling grey-green depression at the high water mark.

The tide rushes out, leaving clean sands to write upon.
Trees offer wisdom, support and comfort. 
Trees reach bony limbs to trip and strangle the unwary.



It is not an idle space.  Activity bees hum down synapses.  Weeding, pruning, planting, nurturing.  Staking (through black hearts or for support).   Ripping out entire beds of misplaced knowledge.   Eradicating dark thoughts and growth.  Exploration parties.  Building paths and shelters.  Cutting back wayward growth.  Planning for the gardens to come. 
The work is never done.
Which is true of all gardens.

***
634 words.
Full Critique Acceptable.
 


138 comments:

  1. Great tulips. Tulips are my favourite flowers..

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Gosia k: My favourite flower changes with the winds, and the seasons. I am looking forward to this years tulips though.

      Delete
  2. What a wonderful walk through your garden. Not at all what I was expecting, but very enjoyable. Love the photos.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Mason Canyon: It wasn't what I was expecting either. Thank you - all the photos are of my garden, the one outside my head.

      Delete
  3. Before I got sick, I used to be a great gardener, My neighbors and I tore down our fences. We have a great garden

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Martin Kloess: Gardens provide healing magic don't they? Along with the work.

      Delete
  4. Fat tubers of resentment are fed by sullenly bubbling fetid and greasy pools.
    The tide rushes in, leaving giant piles of rank smelling grey-green depression at the high water mark.
    The tide rushes out, leaving clean sands to write upon.
    Trees offer wisdom, support and comfort.
    Trees reach bony limbs to trip and strangle the unwary.

    OMG! I absolutely love it all but this passage is spectacular! Do you mind if I print this and frame it for a quick glance and daily inspiration? Love, Love, Love!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Anne in the kitchen: What a truly lovely thing to say. Of course I don't mind. And I hope your resentment tubers starve.

      Delete
  5. This resonates with me on so many levels! The garden in our minds, the shared struggles through the pathways of our lives, ... all mirrored in the sometimes violent upheavals in the actual gardens outside our windows. Thank you for bringing it all into focus and touching our lives as you always seem to be able to do!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. River Fairchild: Thank you so much. Your supportive comments often spur me on.

      Delete
  6. Great job and lovely metaphor. I love gardening and wish I had more time (and money) to satisfy my garden lust.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Gwen Gardner: I don't think that garden lust (like bookie lust) is ever satisfied. Temporarily sated perhaps.

      Delete
  7. Kudos, Sue. You painted a lovely garden visual with your words.

    ReplyDelete
  8. With an artist's eye you describe the many layers present in a wild English style garden (or it sounds like one - the kind I've always coveted but didn't have the time to manage) Love the intertwining of the beautiful and the dead and dying which have already had their moment. Well done, EC! I tried to visualise from your words. I love gardens and gardening, but flower gardens rate higher for me than veggie gardens which need so much tending. . .

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. D.G. Hudson: Thank you so much. An artist's eye? Not something I would have the audacity to claim. I suspect my 'outside' garden which is indeed a cottage garden of sort influenced me.

      Delete
  9. Gardening IS a metaphor, isn't it? Like life, a shape-shifting will-o-the-wisp...

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. dinahmow: I wonder whether gardening is a metaphor for all of us, or just for those who have the bug?

      Delete
  10. You so perfectly described my own mind's garden, from the areas of happiness and joy, to dead roots of memories I long to let go. The mind can be like a garden or, at least in my case, as beautiful and messy as an entire jungle. I'm glad I read this because I could relate to it so much.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Yvonne: Welcome and thank you. I hear you on the beautiful and messy jungle too. Do you have a blog where I can find you?

      Delete
  11. Wow. and wow again. Such a clever intermingling of gardens, the outer ones we create and the inner one that creates us. I love this.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. River: Thank you. I believe/hope that we can shape that inner garden as well.

      Delete
  12. The garden of your mind is superb, Sue. Such vivid imagery. Love the personification as Anne picked out. This is so clever and shows what can happen when a creative mind is given free rein.

    Thank you for sharing your spectacular piece with us at WEP.

    Denise :-)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Denise Covey: Thank you so much. My mind is a dictator. Often. I don't think I can rein it in.

      Delete
  13. Always had a garden in everyplace I've lived, it is needed for my peace of mind and am often surprised at the amt of places without one, new houses with just lawn and old houses with just weeds.
    I live in a area with a lot of middle eastern people they only garden what they can eat often see beans and peas, tomatoes ect growing in the front yard but plants are plants and it is ever changing landscape.
    As for gardens of the mind often you know someone for years before you know whats growing in theirs.
    Merle...............

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Merlesworld: I have had gardens in all of our homes too. Including the rented ones. You are right about the garden of the mind too. I am often surprised by what is thriving in mine, let alone anyone elses.

      Delete
  14. Wow! So creative, a feast for the imagination! Great piece!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Marie Smith: Thank you. I hope you find time to visit the other participants. There are some amazing pieces up.

      Delete
  15. The rose of confidence - I like that.

    I also love your black kitties. I have one of my own.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. L.Diane Wolfe: Welcome and thank you. I have shared my life with black cats for as long as I can remember.

      Delete
  16. I think you just got into my head.
    That was a really creative way to combine our experiences and a garden.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Alex J. Cavanaugh: I am sorry (and a bit surprised) to learn that your head isn't always safe either. And grateful (so very grateful) for the positive re-inforcement that real writers provide in the WEP.

      Delete
  17. I always feel that it is impossible to see the world as others do, or to understand how another's mind works. This was certainly a remarkable and thought-provoking glimpse of your garden, EC. I'm off to read some of the others!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Alexia: There are already some amazing (and incredibly diverse) posts up. Who knew how many directions gardens could take us. And I agree with you about the impossibility of understanding how people's minds work. My own is challenge enough for me.

      Delete
  18. I like Martin have used my garden for healing after illness. The herbs are used for tea. What a fun challenge! Love this line, "In that same crowded bed the roses are covered with the black spot of inadequacy and snap dragons drip unkindness and malevolence from their pretty mouths. " Sorta how I felt today after a visit to Facebook. Not sure why I haven't deleted it yet..Really enjoyed the above.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Ginger Dawn Harman: I too use my garden for healing. I find solace working in it. The garden in my mind is much more treacherous. I haven't braved Facebook yet, perhaps because I have often heard people report that unkindness is rife.

      Delete
    2. Yes, and it is unkind. I think it is time to take that step and let it go. Focus on the positive things that bring me joy.

      Delete
    3. Yes, and it is unkind. I think it is time to take that step and let it go. Focus on the positive things that bring me joy.

      Delete
  19. How fair is the Rose! what a .beautiful flower
    The glory of April and May, But the leaves are beginning to fade in an hour and they wither and die in a day.
    Yet the Rose has one powerful virtue to boast, above all the flowers of the field; when its leaves are all dead and fine colours are lost, still how sweet a perfume it will yield.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Vest: True, but never forget its thorns.

      Delete
  20. I love the way you have written this EC. A garden is about life with its joys and disappointments and with its beauty and its thorns. I would be richer in my pocket if I didn't spend so much money on my gardens, but my soul would be poor.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Starting Over, Accepting Changes - Maybe: Mine too. I suspect my heart would be destitute without a garden.

      Delete
  21. How amazingly beautiful. If I wrote a review to this essay, I would include the quote:
    "In an open sunny clearing, the roses of confidence thrive, jostling for space with dancing daffodils and elegant lilies hinting at sophistication. Battalions of tulips salute the sun in colours begged, borrowed and stolen from the rainbows. Ripe and fleshy orchids flaunt their sensuality cheek by jowl with frigid snowdrops. Knowledge vines climb slowly up walls. Nostalgic granny's bonnets nod in the breeze."
    This passage makes me breathless. If only I could write such evocative prose!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Olga Godim: Thank you so much. You can and do write incredibly evocative prose.

      Delete
    2. Breathless! That's exactly how I felt reading this, EC (and thank you, Olga). So beautifully written...

      Delete
    3. Carol: Thank you. I really didn't mean to take your breath away...

      Delete
  22. Wonderful. I wish I could grow a garden this beautiful, both inside and outside my head. I rely on others to bring the beauty to me, and you have painted a glorious picture. Thanks for sharing your garden, and your verse. Quite lovely.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. dolorah: Welcome and thank you. Parts of my gardens are decidedly not beautiful. A work in progress. For both gardens.

      Delete
  23. Hi EC - I love how you've translated the garden into the mind in your head ... real, yet with some rough truths ... we all get poisonous plants embedding themselves - always ready to spurt out and give us a poisonous dose ... yet we have beauty too - and that is what we must garner.

    New seasonal plantings always happen - our mind can do the same with ideas and thoughts .. we need to garner them. Your paragraph:

    "Shy violets of hope echo the stars on grassy knolls. A precious few will take wings ..."

    We must encourage and give those shy violets a little more water and nurturing so more can fly and brighten the darkness for longer ...

    Take care - and the photos are gorgeous ... well the English garden bed - not so much the 'dump' of weeds - still it's full and that's good ... all the best - Hilary

    Mine will go up late Friday ...

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Hilary Melton-Butcher: Thank you. I am hoping that this years 'real' garden is as colourful as the photo. I am looking forward to your take on the theme.

      Delete
  24. Dear EC
    Gardening can be a bit of a battle with nature in order to achieve what we want. Sometimes we have to accept we can't change some things. It is knowing what can be changed that is the challenge...
    A very thought provoking piece of writing.
    Best wishes
    Ellie

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Ellie Foster: Knowing what can be changed, and what should be changed it the first step isn't it? And sometimes not easy.

      Delete
  25. You have such a wonderfully creative mind. Enjoyed reading this and seeing the photos from your garden.

    ReplyDelete
  26. I enjoyed the piece and love the leaf mask.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Rick Watson: Thank you. I loved the leaf demon when I first spotted it in the garden bed under the washing line.

      Delete
  27. 'The work is never done.'
    Isn't that the truth.
    Again, great writing, Sue.

    ReplyDelete
  28. The picture of the leaf! Awesome spooky. Our yard is hodgepodge of plants and weeds. Love it. And now that we've had a little rain, green shoots sprout in the lawn once again.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Bish Denham: Isn't the leaf demon amazing? Someone once told me that you can keep things alive by watering, but a garden needs rain to grow. I think she had a point.

      Delete
  29. This is an incredible extended metaphor. Every image is perfect. "Pansies of paranoia" struck me. I mention my mother's pansies of long ago on my post on gardens but in a most prosaic way. Now I see them and her as somewhat paranoid ha ha.

    I see in one of your comments above that you use your garden for healing. It is indeed healing to work with the soil and growing things. Beats "house" work any day!

    A fantastic post!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Ann Best: Thank you so much - and I agree with you about housework. Mine gets neglected for the garden often.
      I do hope I haven't tainted the way you see pansies though. I do love their faces. Paranoid or not.

      Delete
  30. That was a great take on the garden, as it can be seen as a garden but more as one's mind. As things sure do grow and fester there, all forms can grow and die in one's head. Have to kill those worms though, don't want their negativity up there lol Mind is always working, never done, some thoughts not always fun.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Pat Hatt: My mind is a crowded place and even the negative thinking worms have their place. Turning things over sometimes helps.

      Delete
  31. As always a truly superb entry! I love the way your mind works. This is lovely, and so true. We do have to tend to the things that feed our thoughts as much as we do a garden. Very inspired!

    Thank you so much for always giving us something spectacular! I do hope all those doubts you had about being a writer have disappeared! You are an amazing writer!!!

    Thank you so much for your continued support and for all the exciting entries for the WEP!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Yolanda Renee: I am so grateful for the support and encouragement you and so many other people have given me. No, I don't see myself as a writer yet. Some day. Perhaps.

      Delete
  32. No critique necessary! I love that you captured the essence of gardens here. They are a microcosm of life and you got that.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. cleemckenzie: More lovely support and encouragement. Thank you.

      Delete
  33. You have taken the mind and compared it to a garden. I read your work with fascination and the paragraph below impressed me the most.

    In an open sunny clearing, the roses of confidence thrive, jostling for space with dancing daffodils and elegant lilies hinting at sophistication. Battalions of tulips salute the sun in colours begged, borrowed and stolen from the rainbows. Ripe and fleshy orchids flaunt their sensuality cheek by jowl with frigid snowdrops. Knowledge vines climb slowly up walls. Nostalgic granny's bonnets nod in the breeze.

    Why? Because I see confidence as a rose that strives and jostles for space when we step out to accomplish something new.

    Your story is well-written and beautifully said, and I enjoyed it.

    Shalom aleichem,
    Patricia

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Pat Garcia: Confidence can be a fragile bloom, but so beautiful when it blooms. Thank you too.

      Delete
  34. OH! So much treasure here! As in your garden and mind. Such associations - anything but shallow. You go right to the roots and much and yet steal color and light from the rainbow and stars. No wonder I adore you, my friend. MAY I use this quote from you on my blog?

    "Experience makes a fine compost. My blood, sweat and tears fertilize the ground when love and laughter are in short supply. (Your Real Name Here - S.G.)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Cloudia: I hope you got my email. I would be honoured if you chose to use my words on your blog. Thank you.

      Delete
  35. This sounds like it could be the start of a sci-fi/post apocalyptic novel. ....or maybe I've just been reading too many of those and think everything could be the start of a post apocalyptic novel. Either way, it is beautifully written.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Mich: I think you are right and most things COULD be the start of a post apocalyptic (lovely word) novel. And a big thank you to you as well.

      Delete
  36. I think the garden of my mind is mostly filled with pollen, airborne seeds, and weeds dying from neglect. Fortunately, my real garden is much nicer but defies the description of yours.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Jono: So long as it is only the weeds dying from neglect. I have found they thrive in the most unpromising environs... And yes, there is pollen and windborne volunteers here too. In both gardens.

      Delete
  37. What an absolutely beautiful post you wrote!!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. fishducky: I feel outclassed and overawed, so thank you (and everyone else) so much for your kindness.

      Delete
  38. I have found the projects where it's true that the 'work is never done' are almost always the most rewarding. :)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. mail4rosey: On good days, yes. Some days it can all feel too much and too hard.

      Delete
  39. Your garden, your mind, your heart/body. Here they seem to be one in the same. Life isn't easy, but there is beauty behind every struggle (all unending). This is so enlightening. Thank you.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Toinette Thomas: Welcome and thank you. There is a lot of garden in my mind, and of me in my garden. Which is lovely.

      Delete
  40. OMgoodness,
    that leaf looks VERY Halloweeny! Is that a word? x

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. My Inner Chick: If Halloweeny isn't a word already it should be. Hugs.

      Delete
  41. Utterly amazing, this extended metaphor of yours. Highly apt, coming from your gardener's mind and knowledge. Completely applicable to everyone's inner thoughts. This is a stunning piece of writing, EC. I'm applauding loudly from way over here.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. jenny_o: Thank you so much. There have been some amazing pieces posted for this challenge. If you get the chance I think you will find an exploration exciting, exhilarating and just plain wonderful.

      Delete
  42. You've such a mastery with words - they dance.
    Wonderful writing, EC.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Rawknrobyn: And a huge thank you to you too. Mastery? Wow. I love to play with them, but...

      Delete
  43. Such clever writing, so meaningful - layered on many levels. Love this.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Sally: Thank you. Gardens are multi-layered places aren't they?

      Delete
  44. A very creative piece and so eloquently communicated. It drew me in immediately. Congratulations on such mastery.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Nicola: Welcome and thank you. Gardens speak loudly to lots of us don't they?

      Delete
  45. Wow you awakened the thoughts in all of us. What great responses.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Granny Annie: I am so grateful to the people who comment here.

      Delete
  46. Fantastic! Your descriptions and metaphors are truly amazing.... Love your garden because you show beauty even in the negative....

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Michael Di Gesu: Thank you so much. I do believe that there IS beauty everywhere. Or I try hard to believe it anyway.

      Delete
  47. You area a talented soul in so many areas!!!!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Sonya Ann: Thank you. I don't feel talented but thank you.

      Delete
  48. Sonya Ann summed it up nicely.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Sandra Cox: Another supportive person. Thank you.

      Delete
  49. Loved your piece. So well written. Thank you.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Feather Stone: Thank you. Love your atavar's name. And your post.

      Delete
  50. I know what it's like when your writer brain takes you to strange places you weren't expecting. The results here were delightful! This was a clever way to approach the challenge, and your descriptions are amazing!

    ReplyDelete
  51. I don't feel peaceful when I'm gardening. I guess I'm one of those dirt phobic people and I HATE (refuse) to sweat.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. lotta joy: I don't mind garden dirt. I would rather not sweat, but do. In buckets.

      Delete
  52. I really like that photo of that leaf, that's awesome!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Dark Witch: I was thrilled when I saw the leaf demon lying in the garden.

      Delete
  53. This comment has been removed by the author.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Dark Witch: Let me guess. You have changed blogs again. I will be over later.

      Delete
    2. This comment has been removed by the author.

      Delete
  54. A grand poetic sense of imagery, that merges fiction, and non-fiction in superb fashion.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Christopher Scott: Welcome and thank you. Some days the line between fiction and non-fiction isn't at all clear.

      Delete
  55. This was an amazing read. So many relevant analogies.

    ReplyDelete
  56. "Roses of confidence." I love that!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. M: Welcome. I wish those roses bloomed more prolifically.

      Delete
  57. Oh, Sue, your writing is so beautiful in this entire piece, it brought tears to my eyes. It's lyrical, evocative, and full of touching truths and thought-provoking metaphors. If I were to pick my "favorite part," I'd have to cut and paste the whole darned thing. It is simply wonderful. And I don't want to hear any more out of you about not being a "real" writer. You ARE a real writer, and a damned good one. Kudos!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Susan: Thank your supportive self SO much.

      Delete
  58. I am truly stunned into silence! So much richness, of colours, of metaphors, of imagery. Poetic yet earthy, beautifully executed! Kudos!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Nilanjana Bose: And another big thank you. I loved your series of poems for this prompt.

      Delete
  59. Beautiful images EC, the last one, skippy bin is lovely.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Bob Bushell: That was one full skippy bin. I got himself and a neighbour to trample on it so we could fit more in.

      Delete
  60. Very vivid words and I love the pictures. I couldn't agree with you more that garden work is never done. It's a continuous cycle. I do love it and find it very therapeutic. :)
    ~Jess

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. DMS ~ Jess: I love my garden, when I am not cursing it. It is indeed therapeutic, but like many therapies can be painful.

      Delete
  61. Wow! A wonderful piece! Fantastic delivery!
    I loved your mental garden concept/imagery. It jumps off the page.
    It was almost as if you were free writing... just writing non-stop in stream-of-consciousness style, words pouring onto the page and the garden unfolding before my eyes. That's the feel of your piece.
    EC, when is your book coming out? I love your writing!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Michelle Wallace: Thank you. I am a reader rather than a writer I think but thank you.

      Delete
  62. Oh how I love your garden:)
    It's a beauty. And generous.
    And altogether welcoming.
    Thanks for letting me stroll through the peaceful
    place that you are:)
    -Jennifer

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Jennifer Richardson: Thank you. Sometimes peaceful. Sometimes other parts are dominant.

      Delete
  63. This is just incredible. No other word for the images you evoke.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Riot Kitty: Thank you. My head is a crowded place.

      Delete
  64. The imagery in this was just lush and disturbing and beautiful, depending on where I was. How you managed so much in such a short piece is beyond me. This is wonderful.Every garden indeed...

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. JeannetteLS: Thank you. The garden of my mind is lush, disturbing, beautiful. And somedays frightening and/or dangerous. I am so glad to hear that I could show some of it.

      Delete