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Metamorphosis I must admit, I fritter away many hours in the garden. To me, it can be like a mirror upon the soul as I watch things grow and change. This year, the garden is simple and requires little assistance from me. This is by design. I have been free to observe more the stages of life that take place, instead of simply mucking about. The butterflies engage in their winged dances, gently gliding to and fro amongst the blossoms. Mother chipmunk, bringing her out, teaching them the sly art of foraging right beneath the gardeners feet. She is quite clever at this and may be the very reason for my absence of peas. There is Toad, whom I imagine to have much the same personality as the famous Toad of Toad Hall. I am most likely in error in this judgment as Toad sits sternly watching over the garden and never seems to have an ounce of adventure in his soul. Truly, it is endless the places the mind can nip off to with so much quiet time to its dispose. I'll be starting a new garden soon, with new creatures to become acquainted with. I will be hybernating in my work over the winter as it will be long and cold, but come spring I will embrace this new world and my duties as its governess. |
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