Miracles

things that grow wild

Each green blade of grass, each small flower growing haphazardly in my yard is a miracle. I say haphazardly because those flowers and blades of grass weren’t planted by my hands. To grow in my yard, you have to have a strong constitution. You’ve either been sown accidentally or you’ve been around much longer than I have.

     I appreciate the blessings of my yard. The Easter lilies are gone from the bank by the road long before their namesake holiday. The dozen tulips, red and yellow, that grow out by the cedar tree and come back year after year, tell me it’s Spring. I am always excited to see the lilac bush with the sweet smelling violet clusters of blossoms.

     I even appreciate the weeds. They have value, too. The wild onion gives off a pungent smell when we mow the yard. I look forward to that odor. There are Queen Anne’s lace and black eyed Susans, though to be fair, they are too comely to be called weeds. And honeysuckle, the kids discovered that one last year. They swarmed the vines like bees looking for honey as they picked the blooms to find that drop of sweet syrup. The dandelions and white bushy headed clovers that Anna brings into the house by the handsful help to decorate the window sills all summer long. The rabbits tend to like to eat those, too. Or braided they make lovely necklaces and bracelets and diadems.

     The white blooms of the blackberry bushes in June tell me it’s almost time to pick the plump, juicy berries. Again, I didn’t plant the bushes, they’ve grown wild. Conveniently, they’ve grown around the fence row, so that I don’t even have to get out into the tall weeds. I can wrestle the briars without the added seeming dangers of ticks and snakes. I brave the brambles and in return I get blackberry cobblers and blackberry dumplings and professions of love from old men who like me anyway, and sometimes, if I’m especially brave--blackberry jam.

     This year we had a mystery plant take over the front yard close up by the porch. The big leafy vine climbed up over the shrubs and I hoped it might be a gourd, but it turned out to be pumpkin instead. The boy can't hardly leave the pumpkins alone, every few days he brings another mostly green pumpkin into the house so that the bugs don't get it.

     Yup, you have to be hardy to grow at my house. No hot house plants or helpless children for me. Vegetables and children mostly tend to themselves. I find myself thankful on a regular basis for the small miracles that happen without my help. Blackberries and pumpkins and an occasional dinner that gets cooked without any assistance from me are the loveliest blessings..

Reviews

[Southern Cross]

You have painted a canvas with this one. Suddenly I was transformed into spring and traveling out in the country smelling the fresh sweet air. "To grow in my yard, you have to have a strong constitution." I love this line.We have to applaud that which needs no tending. Can stand strong alone and burst with merit....In this you even pay homage to weeds for they have their own allure. What a wonderful palate here.

[TL Boehm]

lovely writing - the kind that makes me miss Arkansas and Michigan....all we have in our yard are junk ash trees and some evil prickly pear cactus. sigh....

[Creepy Swine Guy]

I'll nitpick first ...

In ...

"The dandelions and white bushy headed clovers that Anna brings into the house by the handsful help to decorate the window sills all summer long."

... I think you want "handfuls" as opposed to "handsful"
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Now as for content, I wish more people would recognize the small things that make life wonderful. We all know the beauty of the sun rising and setting on the opposing horizons, but how many of us recognize the beauty of that first spring thunderstorm? You have an eye for these things and it shows in your writing, which is why I enjoy your writing so.

[The Archangel Gabriel]

"I even appreciate the weeds. They have value, too." Indeed! If it were not for weeds, I would not even have a back yard.

"I brave the brambles and in return I get blackberry cobblers and blackberry dumplings and professions of love from old men who like me anyway, and sometimes, if I'm especially brave--blackberry jam." You are so delightfully wholesome. I bet that you even have a plaid apron to wear when cooking.

Nice write. It is fun to read something more mundane and normal for a change. :)

-Gabe