Lost garden (Avon Journal)

April 11, 2021

Avon journal

My mother laments the state of the garden, but my father’s stewardship saw to it that the yard today is positively crowded with daffodils. And the magnolia tree is blooming, and a mourning dove is nesting on the ladder by the side of the garage. There are even flowers in the pots that line the alley. The garden is still vibrant, and the arbor  (though overgrown and neglected) is still a triumph, a genteel structure that makes the backyard into an 8-year-old boy’s maze. Yesterday afternoon, Leo entertained himself by climbing my father's trees, riding his scooter in the alley and playing soccer with me; he was happy; resourceful; he loves the way the garden is lush with all kinds of flowers and trees. He rummaged a bit in the garage/shed (a little boy’s paradise); and he helped me pick daffodils after we arrived Friday night.

For Leo, nothing has changed and so maybe for me it is that way, too. 

Lost diary entry