Saturday, May 13, 2006

Across the Fence

I'm writing from our backyard this morning, keeping an eye on Lucky the bunny, making sure he isn't nibbling my petunias or digging up the hens & chicks I just transplanted.

In spite of the glare on my laptop, I chase the sun around the patch of moss we call a lawn, soaking up warmth and wishing sunlight could reach through the small windows of our low-slung, fir shaded 1970's ranch house.

My flowerbed is dry and desperate looking, in all honesty -- nothing like the lush swaths of annuals that bloomed wherever my Great Aunt Minnie lived.

In my mind's eye I can still her signature cosmos towering over marigolds the size of salad plates; and daisys, dianthus, snapdragons & sweetpeas stepping their way down to the hens & chicks that clucked along, forming a natural border to her patch of heaven.

While I also remember Aunt Minnie for her girlish giggle, her missing index finger and the little silver flask she carried inside her purse, it's always her flower patch I see when memory brings her to mind.

I am grateful I didn't inherit her penchant for "taking a nip," and I'm okay with my more serious nature, but oh how I wish, wish, wish she'd passed her green thumb down to me.

A while ago bunny tucked his wiggly nose through a slat in the fence to chomp my neighbor's vagrant clematis vine. For a moment I considered letting him -- their sunny, lush backyard unearths envy in me I didn't know was possible -- but, I shooed him away.

He's been behaving for quite awhile now, probably reminded by my scolding that he's lucky, indeed, to be loose from his wire condo.

Still, somewhere inside me, I hear a little giggle, tempting me to get up and coax bunny back to the fence.

I know I shouldn't ...

1 comment:

Janet said...

I read your blog often, I look for updates all the time. You are such a talented writer, this post made me feel like I was there with you..