Owning a house with a yard is an odd, multi-faceted thing. It’s a rite of passage in our society. It’s something to be proud of. It is your haven and hearth, castle and retreat. But it also costs money, takes a ton of work, and makes each of us worry incessantly about little things from cracks in the corners to dust on the mantle, to weeds in the yard.
For me especially and my gardening bug I inherited from my mom, the yard is my albatross and my crowning achievement. All the landscaping my partner and I have done ourselves, as well as all the maintenance. So, I constantly fret and furrow my brow about the slightest imperfections in every aspect of the lawn and gardens.
Despite all this, for me, one of the consistencies in my daily routine that I treasure most is waking up, letting the dogs out, and sitting out in my backyard for a few minutes. The fountain’s sounds are incessant yet constantly varying. Birds chirp and sing as they dart nervously onto the feeder then away again. The lush greenery is natural, soothing, and best of all, familiar. This is my place to relax and escape, and it’s mine to be proud of. I share it gladly with friends and family throughout the year. But now, in the morning hours, it’s mine. Just mine.
I wander around the pond, feeding the hungry fish popping their mouths open in a frenzy. I stop and, well, smell the roses. The technology we have is wonderful, but stepping out into nature, just for a minute, helps me remember to appreciate the good things in life.
The boys (my dogs) have barked and wrestled to their content, and now we head inside to begin another day.