We live in a quaint neighborhood. The lettered streets. It used to be known as the lehtto streets when i was in college , attending house parties and renting with 3 roomates. Now it is an up and coming fixer neighborhood. Close to town but confusing for out of town visitors due to the many one way streets.
On the days that I work, I drive my son to childcare. We have a routine each way through the neighborhood. We wait our turn at the stop light. We pass a yard speckled with chickens. We count the brown chickens and yellow chickens. If they are not in sight, my 2 yr old comments, "maybe they're in the hen house." He comments on the buses and big trucks he sees.
We have a similar routine when we drive home. The drive home also includes passing a red house with a purple door. My son announces when we pass it. We pass our neighborhood garden and the "lettered street" neighborhood sign. In the garden, my son noticed someone had created a human size woman out of flowers. She changes with the seasons. Now, she is lush with bright flowers and greenery. Earlier this winter, she was more of a shell of twisted vines and dried looking moss. She wears some blue fabric as part of her dress and a yellow velour hat with a flower. She has no face but she looks like a lady of the garden, with a big hoop skirt with flowers in hand and the hat to protect her from the elements. We call her "the lady". When we drive home she is on our route. Each day my son says, "there's the lady".
One afternoon on our routine trip home we saw "the lady" and noticed her hat had fallen off her head. It was a few feet behind her in a bed of purple thistles. We decided the garden goddess needs her hat. We had always seen the lady from the car never in person. We finished dinner and started on our mission to put the yellow hat back on "the lady".
When we got to "the lady" she was still hatless. Up close she was a bit prickly despite the vibrant flowers that grew on her body. We picked up her faded yellow velour hat and placed it on her head. She didn't turn into Cinderella or snow white. She was her steady solid garden lady self, weathered yet vibrant.
It felt really good to make things right for "the lady", To uphold her image of garden goddess. "the lady" is special. Unlike the chickens, you can count on the lady being there every day. She is not polished or nicely groomed. She is weathered and rough around the edges. She is a survivor. She may not look great in the dead of winter but she is there and you can still recognize her in spirit. You can count on a spring bloom and transformation to celebrate new beginnings.
I am thankful for our neighborhood garden goddess. I am thankful for her realness with the seasons. She has no pretensions, no point to prove. She is stable and present. She is the peace of being. She isn't in a hurry to her next activity. She reminds me to let go and take time to be. she reminds me that no one is perfect. She reminds me to have strength through all weather. She reminds me to be strong and thrive.
We explored her garden, sat in the gazebo and watched cars go by. I enjoyed cherished time with my son, showing appreciation for our community and a reminder to be present and notice.
