Despite being someone who screams in the presence of bugs (I’m working on that, I swear), something about nature still calls to me. I love gardens, brooks and streams; love walks in the woods and the quiet, the calm.
When I’m wandering a stone path, I can’t help but pretend I’m Mary Lennox from The Secret Garden — searching, restored and healed by nature. I fell in love with Frances Hodgson Burnett’s classic as a kid and loved the 1993 film just as much.
Though I have no idea how to go about it, I’m looking forward to planting our new yard. We have a flower box already with green shoots pushing upward; I have no clue what they are, but they look like bulbs. Potential flowers, hopefully. And the front yard? Around the stone path leading to the front door, the remnants of old beds still shift hopefully…
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