Living on acreage is not for the weak of heart. Or the weak of mind, weak of strength…you get the picture. I am weak in all of these areas, so when things get done around here, it’s definitely something to write about.
Most of the time I owe the credit to my adorable H, who would snicker if he knew I was writing a post featuring his garden shed.
We moved on to this eight-acre property a couple of years ago, with protected land dense with forest trees, and as a direct counterpart, wide-open spaces with challenging earth.
In fact, it took a fierce pickaxe to plant fragile Clematis for the wrought-iron arbor, I’m struck by the irony that plays out here everyday.
The irony in the garden reminds me that life presents times of stress and relaxation, peaks and valleys, fierceness and fragility.
When I look at the garden shed, I see myself coming out of a long Winter valley, my weakness peeling away like a weighted jacket in the heat of Summer.
I also see hope and possiblity, not just in the garden and what it will produce, but in relationships, in trying new things, in just doing something.
It’s possible. Go build it.