Our home was originally my grandfather and grandmother's home. After they passed away, my husband and I purchased it. My grandfather maintained a garden spot atop a hill behind our home. Some of my earliest memories involve summer days spent in this garden. It brings me joy to spend time in this same garden, even though I will never be the gardener my grandfather was. He was active until his death. Regardless of the limitations arthritis tried to place upon him, he carried on the activities that brought him joy. He died unexpectedly in winter. When spring came, my daddy went to the garden to prepare for planting. There, sitting at the middle of the garden was an old chair Poppa Cecil would take short rests in or just sit and enjoy the solitude of his surroundings. We all took this as a sign that Poppa Cecil expected us to carry on and do our best to honor the things he taught us.
As I said, I will never be the calibre of gardener that Poppa Cecil was, but I will enjoy being in the garden because he taught me to enjoy it. Today hubbie and I gathered squash and cucumbers. Soon tomatoes will grow red and ripe. Potatoes are ready to be gathered and the corn has silks. I took the camera along to get a few shots.
