As an avid gardener, I notice gardens all the time -- whether they're parking lot plantings at the vet's office, professional plantings at the hospital, or lovely gardens in front yards all around town.
I especially appreciate the gardens I see day in and day out -- the lovely flower beds and and borders I pass every day in my neighborhood. On the way to the grocery store. On my walks with the dogs. At the corner where I have to wait to turn left.
Lovely gardens. Carefully tended. With love and attention and time.
Except when they're not.
Weeds out of control.
Dead, spent blooms.
Grass creeping in everywhere.
Total garden chaos.
To me, these are telltale signs . . . that something is amiss in that gardener's world; in that usually lovely, well-tended garden space.
And I'm usually right. Someone's husband is ill. Someone has moved to assisted living. Someone has lost their job. Or taken a job. Or had a baby. Or adopted a puppy. Someone is having chemo. Or suffereing from depression. Something . . . has disrupted the life of the gardener.
In a rather serious way. And it shows . . . in their garden.
My own garden this year (pictured above) shows all the telltale signs. . . of a garden season disrupted.
Of other priorities.
Of things amiss.
You can find me out there every day now. Weeding. Deadheading. Cutting back.
(And a whole lot more.)