I have a friend with colour eyes. An odd but I’d say accurate description. Like, eyes that really see. Nuanced colour in the shadow. Life seeds breathing deep in forgotten dirt.
I don’t know much about gardening. I’m used to pre-cut stems. But gardening with her is fun. Because it’s fruitfulness reveals an unexpected bounty. It’s like she trusts the ground to be fruitful. And it is.
Wonder pouring from cement blocks and broken hedges. All the forgotten ugly edges now containers for living.
I look out at my little urban yard. See the coiled metal and the broken. Then think of my gardener friend. See the same space washed with vibrance of the uncontained, uncut, creative living. Think, I’m going to go buy some seeds myself and give it a try...