2008 was the year of broken bones, broken promises and goals not reached. People I loved and assumed could be counted on are gone. By death, divorce or other design, members of my family come to accept the disappointment that people we love are quite willing to let us go.
New Year’s Day, the logs and paper will have converted to charcoal and cooled. Collect in a bucket and escort them to their next home- perhaps to the vegetable path.
Soil loves to be enriched with the cast-offs of our history. Calcium from breakfast eggs hells. Leaves blown off the crepe myrtle trees by winter winds. The ashes from the fireplace. When we till these offerings into the soil, Mother Nature works her magic with them, turning what some only see as trash into nutritious soil on which a beautiful garden will flourish.
New Year's Eve, 1974. I was at New Year's Eve Party in Belmont Shores. To the outside world, I appeared quite happy. Inside, I was mush. Lonely mush. A gallant young man had galloped through my life- I hadn't seen him in exactly one year- so of course I was pining after what I could not have. Alone on the chilly deck outside the party, I decided this pity party was really boring- quite non-productive- I promised God I was ready to move on.
The Garden Photographs were taken at the Sherman Gardens and Library in Corona del Mar. Each was chosen as proof that circumstances should never be allowed to get in the way of your desire to connect with nature. The one true connection to nature- is through the garden. No ground space- go vertical like the impatiens planted up the palm tree. Or hang a pot. Lack of water- humble succulents can be beautiful.
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