What  I think is most special about a garden is that it becomes a reflection of the soul. What you find in it tells a lot about the person who made it. Sometimes it takes a lot of thought and musing, but you can see the reflection of the soul if you look hard enough. A garden is a multi-colored mirror and it's reflection never lies.

     So are your colors bright or soft or somewhere in between? Are they busy or are they subdued? Are there colors that are different and daring? Or all they colors all mixed up so that it looks like you have million rainbows. What does your garden reflect about you? What are the flowers like? Are they tall and sturdy or are they tall and wispy? Do they grow low to the ground or do they grandly touch the sky? Are your flowers those that seem neat and tidy or do you plant ones that look more like weeds? Did you know that many of the flowers we love are not flowers at all but very much a weed. Can you imagine letting weeds grow in your garden? What would people say? I grow weeds in my garden and some of them bloom prettier than any real flowers.

     Does your garden have straight borders or is it round? Does it meander or are its border's stiff? Did you plant it with the tallest things in back and the shortest in the front? Did you plant it so that it was grouped with like flowers together? Or did you get adventerous and plant things where you wanted and waited to see what would happens?Does your garden grow with things that take a lot of time or do they just take care of themselves? A garden that takes care of itself doesn't mean the person who planted it is lazy. Lazy people don't plant gardens at all. I like things that come back year after year, because it allows me to spend more time finding new things to add to them. A flower from a shop or dug out of the woods or from along the stream while fishing, I try them all and wait to see what happens. It is much more satisfying that any mystery novel.

     My garden is made of several gardens. Some of what I have was left from someone who must have had a lovely garden many many years ago. It was probably a victorian garden from what I see of the remains. Another garden is one that came up on its own and it is all berries. I trim it once in awhile and eat a few of the berries, but most of them get left for the animals and birds who come to visit. The rabbits hide in it and so do the birds. Sometimes I go bird watching there. There is the garden where I visit friends and the garden that is round. The round garden is there because we took down the pool my daughter had and when I saw it sitting there next to the left over victorian garden, it became part of the victorian garden. John bought me a pink pussywillow for it. And then some red twig dogwood. Then a new lilac. The rest is filled with violas and snap dragons. It will take a few years, but someday it will be as pretty as the one that stood there years ago. How will it look when it has grown? I don't know, but I am watching and it has a real mystery to it.

     I am trying to add layers to the whole acre. This is for the birds that live here. Each bird has it's favorite spots to nest and if you get enough different plants, trees, and bushes, the birds will come and stay. If my garden can provide food and shelter for somethng, then it is more than just a garden. It becomes a haven for everything. It has purpose and meaning and contributes something back to the world that has been taken. I find peace and purpose in putting back and it gives me happiness and overcomes the pain and sorrow. So my weeds that grow and the berries which bush make a safe haven for me and those who come to spend some time.