If my garden had a gate it would need to partner with a fence. There has never been that partnership. My belief in the law of the old west where animals were allowed to roam and graze is affirmed from Webster’s definition of a fence: for protection, a barrier, confinement, restriction.

Our garden ground has been transformed by years of compost tilling and attention from a man who finds solace from working the earth with his hands.

The first turning over of the season sends out a clarion call to all who will reap some benefit from the slumbered earth. The four resident cats assume the outdoor latrine is open for the season. The potting soil consistency of the garden sags under the weight of the spring robins who gorge on the red wigglers and night crawlers. The four legged prints of deer, opossum, raccoon, rabbits and one large dog are very discernible when the soil is fresh. Walking gingerly along the edge of the plot plunges my feet to ankle depth but after planting and spring rains the soil becomes more compact , then the rabbits remain loyal fans with no competition from the fluttering cabbage moths.

The open range plot has enhanced my life. I have stood at the same window for forty two years and watched a man caress the cover of the earth and enable that plot of ground to produce enough food for more than just our family, all the while being an oasis for all who pass through seeking shade or nourishment. Mr. McGregor snared poor silly Peter but his descendents are welcome to roam and graze.

My childhood vision from the hymn of “The Garden” was an outdoor cloistered room of pink, trellised roses, early morning mist and a bench where Jesus was sitting.

Today my vegetable plot rests in full view as an extension of the lawn. When I go to my garden alone while the dew is still on “those” roses, the voice I hear, falling on my ear, the Son of God discloses. While I tend to the weeding and picking he talks with me and walks with me and tells me I am his own.

Once again I am watching the unfolding of the miracles of the season and enjoying all that nature provides, thanks to the Master Gardener.

© Article copyrighted by Barbara Dobrinic
May not be used without written permission from the author.