When I was a kid, I hate to get my hands dirty whenever my mother orders me to weed her garden. I also dislike walking along damp soil and getting wet while my brother waters the plant. Gardening is definitely not my thing but I do adore the blooms when it’s summertime.

Many years had passed though and I have looked at gardens in a different light. I have learned to love the verdant hues, the fresh flower scents, and the colorful blooms of a garden. I spend hours weeding and cultivating the topsoil and I grow new varieties of plant whenever I have the chance because every time I sit by our small garden, I am mystified.

There is that fundamental, incomprehensible miracle that transforms a seed into a healthy shrub, a shy bud into a full bloom, and a lifeless leaf into a fertilizer. It’s magical even to see them in a complete picture, bright yellow, orange and red complimenting a lush of greens and a few stalks of browns. It can be a therapy to broken-hearted souls for the reason that their beauty brings comfort and joy. Sometimes, when people inhale the fragrance of the morning dew, there is that feeling of hope that warms a lonely heart.

I am awed every time my mother trims her shrubs into an almost perfect cylinder of greens. The garden is beautiful in the afternoon when the sun sets and the birds begin to chirp their way back into their nests just above her fortune plant. Call me a foolish romantic and so? I am always delighted by the natural beauty that is the complete opposite of my life in the city.

I hope to cultivate more roses, of different colors and variety to add spice to the garden. It’s interesting to note that my mother have sunflower seeds on her seedbed. How I hope to grow them myself and I promise to pluck the first sunny bloom to adorn my pretty head. Lol. 😂

I am enamored by sunflowers, not only by its physical attractiveness but mostly by its symbolism. It has become my favorite flower because of the hope that spring from its bright yellow petals.

Well, I have to wait for that but right now, I am just happy and charmed by our small garden. I don’t mind getting my hands and nails dirty, or my palms getting rough as I crumble and pulverize the soil. It has made its way into my heart and I will surely love to make a mark in our small garden.