Last Sunday I started to give some attention to my back garden again after a Winter of neglect. It was a beautiful day - not too hot. I decided to focus on the fruit trees at the bottom of the garden. We inherited these trees when we bought the place, and I know nothing about caring for them. Some have grown and produced fruit in spite of me, others have not been so lucky. I was happy to discover the persimmon tree is bearing fruit again after a few quiet years.
This end of the garden once housed our daughter's fairy garden. It was the most useful thing I could think of at the time, for an area of fruit trees that I knew nothing about. Daughter has moved on from fairies, but the remnants of her enchanted place remain.
I refrained from bringing my headphones this time, opting instead to listen to the birds around me. I started to think about the tiny creatures that live in my garden. The cute, the furry and the downright bizarre. We have possums, 2 blue tongues, a myriad of bird life, and we spied evidence of bandicoots about a year ago. However this time, it was the small and crawly creatures that consumed my thoughts. It occurred to me, when I started yanking the weeds, that we share our backyard with millions of other living things that I hardly give attention to.
Little worlds within my world.
What lives down the crack in the ground?
In the log?
In the compost bin?
Evidence of so much life right under my feet. I find the remains of a birds nest blown out of the tree - possibly in the last storm. A friendly lady bug. Not so friendly eight legged creatures.
I started to feel a bit hungry and the trees supplied a snack, so I asked the puppy to join me, but she was busy elsewhere.
Sometimes happiness is rediscovering a familiar space - and a little red bucket.