Last year, someone secretly planted flowers in my window boxes. I still don?t know if it was an overachieving gardener, someone who couldn?t stand the sight of the pathetic emptiness, or someone making a fairly grand poetic or romantic gesture, but I loved both the secret and the blooms. My lack of gardening ability and native slothfulness, combined with changing seasons, proved fatal to the floral gifts. It was time for Spring cleaning and replanting. As I approached the remains of the garden, a bird swooped in and pulled off some twigs. My garden was being reborn as a nest.

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5 thoughts on “Recycling

  1. Don’t tell, but I do this to my neighbor every year…it’s my only gardening effort and I do it in the dark.

  2. Actually…the only chance I have to plant something and have it survive is to give it away. I enjoy it from afar as she tends it. It’s a purely selfish act.

  3. Does she know it’s you? I don’t think it’s selfish – she’s enjoying the beauty (and the gift)!

  4. no…but I enjoy listening to her wonder about it…it’s been going on so long that I’m almost afraid to admit the truth.

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