|Garden as therapy|
Those bemused neighbors who track my burgeoning interest in plant cultivation, in addition to a helpful tip or two, have introduced me to the unique breed known as "gardeners." Gardeners see beauty growing in places where others never bother to look--the crack of a sidewalk, beneath a crumbling overpass, or along a storm drain. They understand the cycle of life.
On my street, and I suspect most others, gardens serve as therapeutic incentives to keep going, instilling some normalcy when times get tough. These cultivated patches of soil, window boxes, even containers on high-rise balconies reflect joys and sorrows, the good days, and those which are horribly bad.
|Gardening for sight impaired|
Next door, spunky Joann adapts her partial loss of eyesight not by gardening less, but BIGGER so that she can SEE the progress. Uncomplaining, she tends to her yard regularly. Rather than retreat, she converted a garage porch into a "potting room."
Further up the Court the subtle reminders of legacy are reflected in the giant rhododendrum which nearly covers a widower's dining room window, and the variegated lilies that poke up in the corner of his lot.