My mother is an excellent photographer, gardener, and, as evidenced by this post, writer. Here she talks about the therapy of gardening and gives a glimpse of what it was like where i grew up.
When we lived in the country I had an enormous garden with many vegetables and flowers. It was beautiful, and therapeutic and it may be what i miss most about living on 5 acres with few neighbors. It was calming to go to the garden after a day at work and dig potatoes or pull weeds or cut a bouquet. Sometimes the deer would watch me, sometimes i would find a nest of bunnies and often Stella (my golden) would pick green beans alongside me. Gently, with her soft retriever mouth she would pick a bean at a time and eat it. Repeat. She would also do this with the baby bunnies, which was not so cute. I would end up dirty and sweaty, but happy after being in that garden. There were also mounds of vegetables to can so i had beautiful jars of bright colors on my shelves…
View original post 97 more words