C-O-D-E-R-E-D

I have to admit, my landscape is not well defined but definitely what experts call “low-envy” I wish I could have tall stalks of hollyhocks frolicking alongside fences, aroma-rich sweet peas, and stately sunflowers nodding in the breeze. Instead, a scraggly juniper tree bears tiny pale blue berries in the fall. Miniature fir trees sit primly in Terra-cot ta-turned-white pots. The trees are disheveled odd shapes. My backyard blueprint does not involve innovative ideas or exquisitely detailed plans. Visual accents of the artificial kind are not my cup of tea. I am shaping a context for a personal experience in the wild, adopting Thoreau’s philosophy, for I also believe that “in wildness is the preservation of the world,” or at least the preservation of my particular soul.

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