Bzzzzz, click, chick-chick, hummmmm – the sound of life in my garden. Hummers flit in and around the burble of the fountain. “Caw-ah! Caw-ah!” Hello my handsome iridescent friend. Crow has come to watch me work. He’s come to watch me arrange small stones in spirals and waves, curious for the shiny pieces placed here and there. He’s hoping for a prize.
“I would like to spend the rest of my days in a place so silent–and working at a pace so slow–that I would be able to hear myself living.”
Droplets of light dapple my skin as I lay my garden path. Whooshhhhh, the dapples dance as the breeze unsettles the leaves above. Silence. A butterfly pauses, wings like window panes in my church. My garden’s breath, it’s heartbeat, is that of my own. My garden is the place where I hear myself living.