Forever is composed of nows


Gardening requires a leap of faith. You prepare the soil, plant the seed, tuber or bulb, protect and wait. There are no guarantees about weather, water or rabbits for that matter. Loss is inevitable; an accepted exchange for the joy and beauty we are blessed with.

“Happiness, not in another place but this place…not for another hour, but this hour.”
~ Walt Whitman

The Sunflowers and Dahlias are late and smaller this year;


the Campanula did not even show; the Salvia and Rudbeckia, on the other hand, are prolific.


There’s no point in worrying about what might be – we just enjoy what is.

I met a woman in the garden on Saturday. She was visiting with Ned and contemplating adoption.

Clearly in love, she saw huggable in pudgy; enthusiasm in wilfulness.


But she worried a little about his age of eight. We hear this a lot. People think they need a young dog despite bonding with an older dog because they believe a youngster comes with a guarantee of time.


Just like the garden – there are no guarantees.

Loving an older dog requires a certain leap of faith, I guess. But there is no promise that we have longer with a young one. Life happens. Fourteen years; four years. We don’t know. What we know is that the connection is right when we look in a dog’s eyes and understand what is in their heart.


“Do not look back and grieve over the past, for it is gone; and do not be troubled about the future, for it has yet to come. Live in the present, and make it so beautiful that it will be worth remembering”
~ Ida Scott Taylor

We work to make each season of the garden beautiful and memorable – no matter what mother nature hands us.


The woman was told that we opened at noon on Sunday if she wanted to return. She was there by nine. By noon, she and Ned were gone together.


“Forever is composed of nows.” ~ Emily Dickinson