The roses were planted in the Spring as part of a larger planting, magnolia trees, a couple of tall hollies, some desert succulents, pomp pomp trees, salvia geggii and a number of small hedge and flowering plants. It was a beautiful display when finished and, with her daily care, it flourished through the early summer.
Then, suddenly, she was no longer able to tend the garden, unable to care for herself really. No one saw it coming, bicycling on a clear summer morning seems so ordinary, so wholesome, so right, no one saw it coming. A four-inch drop from the pavement to the gravel is enough to change the course of a life, and the fate of a garden.
As she struggled to recover, the garden was left to the whims of the season. The long dry summer days, encroaching weeds and ravenous insects did take their toll. By the end of the summer the once beautiful garden looked haggard and neglected. Some of the plants withered and died, others became infested by intrusive vines and weeds. It was not just her family and friends who were missing her, the garden was, in its own way, groaning for her return.
The rains came, slow at first but steady. It was the roses that shown first, bursting with bright color, seemingly overnight. Then the salvia greggii with their bright purple blossoms. Even without her care, or, most likely because of her earlier care, the garden’s beauty re-emerged. Her healing came, slow at first but steady. Then the light in her eyes returned and so the nous of her mind and joy in her heart as she plays with her grandchildren.
She’ll be out in the garden later today, tending to the roses.