Art

I've always loved art. Paintings, music, photographs, although I could never get the hands to do what I wanted on canvas. Give me flowers, plantings, trees, soil, and mulch, and I create. Getting my hands in the soil, smelling the fresh earth, moist, loose and I regress to my childhood. My mom shares the love of the soil. She must've showed me her secrets. How wet the soil should be, how much food it'll need, and the colors. The palettes of mother earth, I revel in them.
I share my gardens of sage greens, waving strands of lavender, their stalks of sweet perfume waving in the light breeze. The deep purples and bright greens of the butterfly bush, beckoning the butterflies and bees to come forth. The soft creams of the mums with their deep forest green leaves, waiting til the perfect autumn cool to show their beauty. The deep yellows of sunflowers stretching to the heavens, calling forth the golden yellow goldfinches with their seeds. My coreopsis, a light lavender flower, ever blooming, growing tall near the sea oats grass, lazily swaying in summer winds. I anxiously await the summer rains to soak the soil with their nourishment, allowing the flowers to stand tall with blossoms beckoning back to old, summer days. My palette is brown, sweet, and soft, and my shovels await my work.