In a Garden

I stood in a garden and saw things through cynical lens. Pathetic attempts to be independent! Food for a family? Too much labor and not enough produce to produce a meal! Six foot fences to keep the deer out are proof that we humans are pitiful as we cannot work with nature, we must work independently of nature. I walked in the straight lines carved out of jagged mountain. Pathetic! These non-native plants invading with aid of water pumped from hillside, a helping hand, a securely fenced off location and for what? I stood and marveled at the impulse which had flowered into the scene I stood before.

But as I mocked those foolish enough to not enjoy my misery, I heard the innocent laughter of an enthusiastic child. Explaining the difference between the types of peppers and cutting tomatoes for us to try. My taste buds told me I was wrong. Her joy made me envious of the appreciation I seem to have lost. And as I walked between sunflower stalks and corn husks I found myself dwarfed. Lost in luscious greens with glorious scents, sweet flavors still dancing in my mouth, I closed my eyes and inhaled the hint of pine over the pungent spices. Wind made the motion of leaves rustle in my ears as they danced to their own slow waltz. I waited for a long time savoring the garden. And when the sun left, I followed. Later that night I stood before a mirror and saw my cynical lens through freshly opened eyes, finally ripe enough to enjoy.