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

Let’s face it, though, many of us don’t have a place, or at least time, to garden. I can barely keep my lawn watered and mowed, let alone plan, plant, and putter in a garden. Today my front lawn, dry and yellow from the frost, is covered with red pine needles and stubs of branches broken by gray squirrels. Does this send a message to my neighbors that I have no neighborhood pride?
Landscape has long been a canvas for one’s philosophy and social status. Surely it also intersects with our spiritual “in scape.” The natural world functions within and without; our true terrain is where our sense of place finds resonance with our personal story.

Do you live in a manicured neighborhood or along a rambling country road? Are you blessed with lush and fertile soil, or do you have to haul it in? What are your favorite flowers? Colors? Scents? Everyone would like profuse blossoms, but sometimes beauty is in the eye of the beholder. What is possible for you? How will your garden tell your story?
An old wire chair seat brimming with hanging flowers is part of my friend Jane’s landscape appeal. She has also been known to hang an antique candelabra in a tree for a cozy summer supper.