Pretty bleak today, too. But I did manage to find a bit of simple beauty in the back of my yard. I love old wood and rusty things in the garden. My DH thinks I'm daffy to buy something that's old looking and rusty. "You paid good money for that?" I ignore him. That's my secret to our successful 39 year marriage.
But this piece of wood is not store bought, but rather a discarded piece used to keep my neighbor's little dog on his side of the fence. It didn't work. He learned to keep shoving it until it gave just enough for him to crawl under and romp like a goof through my trilliums and Bloodroot and jack-in-the-pulpits! Oh well. I have a mind to leave the garden alone most of the time,no matter what. It is a habitat and habitats need to push and shove and survive. Most garden clubs wouldn't want me as a member,but I don't care, I have a sanctuary and they have plants.
It took me a long time to not be embarrassed by my jungle. I remember the summer it happened. A dear friend,Patty,asked if she could bring her garden club to see my yard. I think my head fell off when she asked me. "My garden,Patty?" I asked her, "It's not a proper a garden."
"Yeah,I know," she said in her wonderful way,"that's what I want them to see." Well, they came by the car load and ooo'd and ahh'd and asked me all sorts of questions. Me...
I dug up volunteers for them and many went home with invasive chocolate mint...and were happy to! Patty called the next day to thank me, for teaching them not to be such snobs about gardening... "they loved, loved, your yard,she said,even the odd stuff you have tucked away in every nook and cranny".
She was referring to old enamel pots and baskets and old tools and iron metal sculptures. She said the girls loved that "my trees loved to wear jewelry". That's what I said about all the dangly things hanging from so many branches.
All this thinking has made me long for my garden. But I must be still now, rest,like the garden,store up my energy for the new season promised.

I long to hear my friend Patty's laugh, thinking about her now. She is gone. Like the lovely red leaf fallen on the old wood,she was a thing of beauty all by herself, and I know she is in the garden promised her.

And I hear it raining now.