(156: Sunlight through a hole in the leaf.)
It’s been a garden day. I’ve been out weeding the asparagus bed, getting it ready to be mulched. As usual it’s a much bigger project than I anticipated. Someday I’ll learn that the weeds are always going to be way ahead of me, especially when I ignore that patch of ground I call a garden for a couple of months.
Life seems to be getting back to something resembling normal. Sadness (grief) comes and goes. It’s the little things right now that sometimes bring the tears. Putting on the bracelet my mother gave me for my 50th birthday for the first time since her funeral. Cooking something that I know she liked (or that she taught me how to make). Sometimes, though, thoughts of Mom bring a smile first, before I remember all over again that she died.
Today was my first day back in the garden since Mom’s death. I’d forgotten how calming it is to be out there, pulling weeds, listening to the birds, and enjoying the fresh air and sunshine. I’ll be back out there tomorrow, trying to finish the weeding before the next batch of rain comes in on Wednesday.
(This morning’s view of the pond.)