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I missed my home. I missed my family, I missed my love. I missed my garden. I have spent a few days tending to slug bitten leaves, deadheading neglected flowers and planting new seedlings. I have also planted more flowers, inviting the great pollinators to my yard. The vegetable plants are beginning to flower and are in dire need of a kiss from a butterfly or bee.

My love did a fine job caring our plot of land in my absence. He admits though, that it all looks a bit better now that I am here. I told him I don't do anything special. Mostly I smile at the growing plants. I talk to them and inspect them for critters. When I see a butterfly or bee or praying mantis or ladybug, I always whisper, "Welcome to our garden!" If someone were watching me, they might think me odd or crazy. Maybe I am, a little. 

I sat on a chair last evening, just by the mint pot. As I visited with a friend, I munched on spearmint with jasmine blossoms in my hair. Not a bad way to spend a bit of time. I think before all is said and done, the backyard will be transformed into a small farm. Each time I pass a large, empty, grassy lawn, I imagine all the food that could be grown, all the bugs and birds that would find solace there.

I long for a small beehive, a duck to eat those pesky slugs that feast on my radish greens, a chicken or two and a small painting studio. I see it all so clearly. Which means it is only a vision away! Off to the garden...