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Gardening bliss

When all the world around me falls apart, I retire to my garden sanctuary. That’s how it’s always been. My garden is my solace, it gives me time to just be, to just sit back and take a breather. It may not always be a time spent on a garden bench listening to the gurgle of my pond, in fact there are times when I spend my time in frenzied activity whether it be turning soil or paving another section of the garden or planting something. Still, I think the promise at the end that I never leave disappointed is what brings me back time and time again for its therapeutic powers. Gardening is therapy. Scientists put it down to being outdoors, breathing the fresh air, getting enough sunlight. All too technical for me. I just know what I feel and it’s that invigorated feeling of being truly alive. Marvelling in the goodness that is around me. My garden doesn’t protect me from harsh realities. No, oftentimes these harsh realities are there to behold – the hail affected fruit and tattered leaves, the heliothis infestations that decimate my tomatoes…so what is it that is different between my garden and the world outside that gives me peace despite all its similarities? I think it has to do with the promise of better things, better times if only we hold out long enough and persevere. I find that harder to see in the developed world with all its clutter and confusion. I see it more clearly and evidently in my garden – which is why I am forever thankful that I am a gardener. It keeps me sane far from the madding world…

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