Sunset Garden

It's been a busy day from early to late. I worked in the yard most of the morning and in the kitchen most of the rest of the day. But twice today I took time just to enjoy the garden. I enjoy working in it, but truly, most of my time in the garden is working time, early in the morning before getting ready for work. Then I look out the kitchen windows at the flowers, or go out in the yard to take the dog out. I have a chaise that I scrounged from the alley a couple of years ago. It sits on a large concrete slab on the east side of our yard, probably the floor of a shed long ago. It is shaded by my neighbor's large pecan tree. After putting in a solid hour and a half pruning the boysenberry thicket and cleaning up the wreckage, I let myself stretch out on the chaise with a cup of coffee. I thought, I work in the garden all the time, but I don't often just sit in it. It had been a good morning to work in the yard, 68 or so when I started early. Now and then a cloud deck would pass by and shade me as I worked, and there was a pleasant breeze.

After supper this evening I sat by the dining room window and looked out at the dusk, watching the colors fade. I crossed my arms on the deep window sill and gazed out at the four beds stretching from left to right across the back half of the yard. I remembered the work I had done in the morning, pruning the berry vines, putting down newspapers for mulch, weeding, setting up a rabbit fence around the short "patio" tomatoes. I thought, I wonder what birds are calling this evening? I bet I can hear a robin. I stepped to the front door, took a few steps outside. The sky was clear aqua, the air still warm and a little humid. Brilliant part of a moon, evening star. A robin fluted in the distance. Here came two women and two little girls, walking up the street, walking in the street since there isn't a sidewalk. One little girl about four years old had shoes that flashed red and orange with every step. "Hello," "Nice night for a walk," "Sure is."