To the left of me I have this: a creative display of whimsical colour, variety of shape and form, and artfully placed borders surrounding bright, vivid greenery.
To the right, is this: a zen-inspired vista of tranquility. Polished stones, calm mossy greens with bursts of energizing purple blooms, the perfect balance of light and dark – if I didn’t know otherwise, I could be in the contemporary courtyard of a modern boutique hotel. I derive so much joy from this garden every single time I walk out of my home.
Ahh yes, now we have my house. The same house where you will often find a plastic bag stuck to a tree branch. A lawn so sad that it’s mottled surface could bring you to tears. Overgrown shrubs, weeds galore – that’s us.
We are not gardeners. Our thumbs are not green. In fact, they are not even the slightest bit chartreuse.
Every year, I go through the motions of buying some containers and baskets and slowly watching them die over the course of the summer. I want so desperately to contribute to the leafy beauty of our cul de sac’s gardens, but I am so clearly lacking. One of these days, we should enlist some help, but where do we even begin? Yes, that smaller “tree” is a weed.