by Catherine Kleinmann

“An enchanted place where colors are brighter, the air softer and the morning more fragrant than ever again.”          Elizabeth Lawrence, A Southern Garden

The birds singing outside the window sounded like they were calling me out to play even though the light was still dim.  I hurriedly threw off my pink cotton nightgown, pulled on the flowered t-shirt and shorts that had magically appeared at the end of the bed and ran to the kitchen. “Good Morning Sleepyhead”, my Grandma said as she wrapped me in her arms for a most comforting moment before taking my hand in hers.  “Honey, before we start breakfast for Pop, let’s go out and water the roses while we wait for the milkman.” My eyes lit up as she grabbed her blue can from the counter and turned the glass knob. The cement stoop was damp and slippery on my bare feet where the green velvet moss covered one corner. The bottom step held a cracked beige ceramic milk picture that had the daintiest, trailing yellow flowers falling from it. To the left were some large bushes next to the house that Grandma was scattering her damp coffee grounds around. The smell of the old coffee grounds blended well with the dewy grass and the musky green smell of the trees that looked like big umbrellas, it was just heavenly. We walked down the small graveled path to the clump of bushes with all different color roses, to empty the remaining grounds. I pulled a prickly stem to my nose to savor the sweet smell of the petals. In the middle of the thorny bushes was the aged cement bird bath with two squirrels running across as if they were playing chase. Everything was waking up outside as the sun was rising. After bending down to pull a stray weed on the path, Grandma turned to me with a finger to her mouth to let me know to be quiet and pointing from her other hand to her humming bird feeder over by the big bushes that had fluffy blue pom- pom flowers (hydrangeas). The little frenzied buzzing, flittering bird was feasting on the sweet tastes of sugar water.  After his fill, he darted away bringing my eye to the most intriguing tree. It was raining long skinny limbs in the middle of a clover patch where the dark green picnic table stood to one side. My day dreaming was interrupted by the sounds of the milkman’s truck engine and my grandma pulling me by the hand. Before heading back inside to help with breakfast I took a wistful look around the little magical garden that made me tingle all over in happiness.  Unbeknown to my Grandma, my sadness of the loss of my Daddy had just drifted away.  Everything in the garden was alive, dancing and singing, playing and blooming.   Complete contentment enveloped me as nature nurtured my young soul.

Grandma had not realized she had created an outdoor sanctuary that engaged my senses, a sensory garden that would hold my heart and smiles time and again through memory.  Studies have shown the benefits and value of interacting with plants and nature for all ages are productive for healthier lifestyles.  A place, large or small, that offers you a spot to relax and take time to enjoy nature in the manner that poets write about can be easily achieved. Perhaps you have room only for a container garden with a comfy place to sit, with a small water feature, if not a full landscape.

What seeds can we sow in our communities to create gardens in all schools that stimulate creativity and teamwork or gardens in hospitals, rehabilitation centers, nursing homes to instill hope and give the opportunity to engage in a less sterile environment, one where the cycle of life is artfully displayed. There are endless possibilities to reap the benefits of Heaven on Earth in a garden.

Cathy Kleinmann, an Intern in the 2016 Master Gardener Class, lives in Pike Road.  For more information on becoming a master gardener, visit www.capcitymga.org or email capcitymga@gmail.com.