Last weekend we took a stroll through a seaside community and we stumbled across this little gem in an “out-of-the-way if you blinked you missed it” location. I’ve always been enamored with community gardens and the gardens make my head turn every time I drive by one. Walking past this one during our walk-about gave me the chance to walk through the community paths, allowing me to take my time inhaling the fragrances and enjoying the handy-work of the community. The gardens are a living testament of what humans can create using a blank canvas to produce beautiful brushstrokes with our blood, sweat and tears. When I was a young girl my mother told me a story of my Irish grandfather growing vegetables in a community garden in the inner city of Montreal. She told me that he lived to go to that garden. My grandfather died when I was a young girl, but his presence made an impact in my life. He was a tough,no-nonsense kind of guy who said what was on his mind. I remember his tough presence but that didn’t stop me from looking deep into his eyes to capture a soul who wanted more. Imagining him tending to his crops in his community garden gave me a sense of peace for a man who sailed on a ship from a far-away-land where he was left with nothing to a land that promised him so much more. What he found in this new land was hours of hard labour that did not provide enough for the many mouths he had to feed. Walking through the community garden last weekend brought me serenity and a sense of calm. I hope my tough Irish grandfather found that same sense of serenity in his community garden in a land that promised him so much more.
A couple of weeks ago while camping, I got up early to go for a walk and spend a little time by myself. I grabbed the camera and headed out of the trailer and started walking in any direction my heart desired. Found myself going across a mini bridge and before my eyes was this single wild rose resting on the banister. As I was taking the picture I thought about my garden, how I don’t really have the time for it and I try to simplify by planting perennial plants as much as possible. There is some planning involved in painting a garden but as I walked across the bridge I realized that I try too hard, you can’t beat the beautiful canvas created by nature’s very own brush.
I had an old bench sitting in the back yard that I bought a few years ago. I bought it off some guy on the side of the highway at a country garage sale. He made the benches out of salvaged wood that he took from torn down cabins. He really did a beautiful job and I loved the bench. I left it out in the elements too long and the bench fell apart. Last week I decided to take it apart and paint it all yellow and put it back together. Now if you’re thinking smart and crafty girl – think again. I took it apart quite easily, it literally fell apart as my son and I moved it from the back yard to the front yard. Painting it was no problem once I tore it apart, putting it back together was another story. This is where my husband comes in, he was only too happy to take on the job( if you detect sarcasm you are absolutely correct). My lovely husband put it all back together for me and I have it sitting under the canopy of a beautiful Red Chinese Maple tree amongst the backdrop of glistening yellow Black Eyed Susan flowers and I must say it looks stunning. However, if you come by my house and the yellow bench under the red canopy intrigues you to sit and ponder, I guarantee you will end up on your ass as the bench got a little too weathered while exposed to the elements and most likely will come apart very easily. My husband has more talent than he likes to let on.