Our Dahlia Garden is coming up. Maria worked hard at digging it up, and we both have been watering and weeding it. The hot and muggy and wet weather has been good to this garden, it is coming up and it has a special meaning for me. This was, we think, the original garden at the farm, there were Irises and tulips popping up, it is right on the edge of the old stone wall that bounded the pasture. I thought of Florence Walrath when we dug the garden, and I thought of us, it is really more our garden than hers now,  I suppose, if I’m being honest about it.

We honor her spirit, but it has become our place, as it needs to be, ought to be.

We bought about 20 Dahlia bulb groupings and about sixteen are in this garden, we put the others  in some of our other gardens. I gather I will have to get stakes for the Dahlia’s and I am eager to see these flowers begin to sprout. The Dahlia is native to South America, it was declared the national flower of Mexico in 1963, it is a sensuous and unpredictable kind of flower, growing in all kinds of colors and shapes. It is a symbol to me of our new home, our new life together, our love and commitment to one another. Gardening is hard, more difficult than I remembered it, worthwhile and rewarding. In one way or another, we care for these gardens every day. The chickens help out by pecking away at the bugs, the site and soil are good. I am eager to meditate there, it gives off a peaceful and rich feeling.