As many weekends as I am able, I travel west three hours to my cottage on the Olympic Peninsula. It is a lovely and peaceful respite.
When I arrived Friday evening, I was greeted by a forest of growing things in the garden, not all of them invited. The path leading up to the front door was barely navigable. Weeds had pretty much choked it off. Oh dear! There were many that came up above my waist.
The early summertime sun came streaming in the bedroom window the next morning and I was up to greet the day…and the weeds. Gloves on, spading fork at the ready and wheelbarrow nearby, I began to pull. A few trips with full loads in the barrow and I started to see my herb garden emerge. It had been a hard winter for Western WA, and I was relieved to see I hadn’t lost too much. The rosemary and all my lavenders made it through, even the ones in the 4 inch pots that didn’t get planted before the rains, snow and freeze(s) came were looking perky.
After about two hours, I took a break and walked up to the neighborhood cafe to read the paper and have some breakfast. Fortified, I walked back and put in two more hours. My across the street neighbor looked over and told me it was starting to shape up! Margaret always has a kind word.
Four more hours on Sunday, and I stopped when good friends reminded me that it’s good to have balance in all things; city/country, work/play, solitude/friends.
It was hard to leave this morning and head back to Seattle. I took this picture to remind me of the space that is patiently waiting for me.