As Mom became worse and more of an invalid, the way to the garden was blocked and I couldn't spare the time to care for it. The garden became overgrown.
I wish that it looked as picturesque as the garden above.
The land takes untended spaces back. Florida's long growning season takes the process a step further. It went native. Big time.
This past August, I paid the man who mows my lawn to clear it out. He and a friend went at it with much vigor and thoroughness. And far exceeded my expectations. He left my two trees, my hydrangea bush, and my gardenia bush. Everything else was purged- including the first thing I planted- my azalea bush. All that was left was the stump. Chairs, pots, ornaments, figurines, hoses, border fencing, and tables went into a pile. It looked pretty bleak back there. I was in a state of shock but consoled myself that this was an opportunity to start over anew.A blank slate. But I was going to miss the azalea's magenta flowers come spring.
I'd given myself a pep talk and a deadline to be able to get out door to the garden by Christmas. I did it by Boxing Day night. Today was an unseasonably warm day and I went out to the garden to see what survived the onslaught. I dug through the pile rescuing and putting chairs back into place, started putting things in a pile to be taken to the curb, and tried to figure out what I could do with what was left. I noticed a patch of green about the size of a dinner platter. I frowned but then my eyes widened. The leaves looked very familiar and were growing around the stumps of the old azalea bush. I may not have any magenta azalea flowers in this spring, but, perhaps, by the next.