Sometimes I’m not a Cynical Jerk
Though I might just be hypomanic.
Regardless, I’m madly in love with my new neighbourhood. It’s full of life; useful shops within walking distance, friendly people, families, parks, restaurants, painted alleyways, chatty old folks, balcony parties, musicians, outdoor cats, indie cafes, bike path, skateboard camp, and front lawn gardens. Lately, it’s these gardens that catch my attention. In their full, mid-summer splendour, each is different, reflecting the personality of their human caretakers. Some are carefully planned with every plant in its place, and some are haphazard and overgrown boasting more weeds than intentional flowers. All of them make me smile and fill me simultaneously with envy and gratitude.
Envy because I don’t have a garden of my own at the moment. We do have a 6′ x 3′ piece of fire escape, and the bit of space that lies beneath. This is stuffed with the few potted plants I do care for, arranged in some sort of visually attractive order (at least to me).
On my walks to the shops, I tend to stroll and stare at the myriad landscapes packed into a single block. Grateful because people take the time to make their tiny piece of the planet just a little more beautiful. Whether it’s unattended wildflowers or painstakingly manicured ornamental and exotic blooms, all of them are much better than concrete, gravel, and broken glass or dog poop. I prefer these gardens over lawns as well, which have never made much sense to me. A strange suburban phenomenon that requires large amounts of resources to maintain and gives very little in return.
So grateful am I, that I’ve thought of letting people know how much their efforts are appreciated by a complete stranger. Now, I’m not one to go knocking on doors, but I thought a little something like this could be left on a fencepost or tucked into a door jamb.
Usually, I’m a little more …. er …. sharp tongued with my opinions., but I’m feeling all warm and frickin’ fuzzy today. Don’t panic, it won’t last.