I think I know why some people become Crazy Garden People. Or at least, why I have. I’ve come up with some reasons. I may think of more later.
I never grew out of wanting to dig in the dirt. I still love it.
Once I dug a stump up out of my backyard with a spoon. The kids were little, and I needed something to do with my hands while they ran around the yard. So I took an old spoon, sat myself on the ground, and dug. And dug. And dug. Sometimes they would come over and dig with me. Other times they did their thing, while I did my thing. It was great. All of us doing our thing outdoors.
I love outdoors.
Outdoors can be horribly cold or horribly hot, but there are many, many days, especially here in the temperate zone I’ve settled in, where you can be outdoors and not feel like dying. There are a lot of good gardening days here. Plus, the people I live with like the house colder in the summer than I do. A couple times a day I have to go outside to thaw out. Even on 90 degrees days, especially on 90 degree days, I have to go outside periodically to thaw out. In the winter, when it’s too cold for me to go outside (cold hurts) I’ll sometimes sit in my car that’s been soaking in the sun. A nap in a warm car on a cold day. It’s more than good enough. It’s delightful.
I suppose I could survive never going outside. But I’d be harder to live with.
People make me crazy. Usually they make me crazy indoors. Not the people I live with, but the people on TV or on the internet. Going outdoors, especially in my own yard, cuts down tremendously on the amount of people in my head. There are a lot of angry, angry people in the world. Maybe they should go outdoors more.
But to be honest. Sometimes the people I love make me crazy, too. Outdoors is a good place to sort out your head, and heart.
Flowers are pretty. Have you noticed it? They just do their thing, blooming. Blooming and attracting bugs, who go from flower to flower, creating more life in each flower they pollinate. Resulting in more beauty, and food. Can’t have a tomato or an apple without a flower. And the beauty itself, is so … over the top. Why do they have to be so beautiful! It almost seems like a waste, like on days when your hair looks amazing and you aren’t going anywhere. There are flowers on meadows blooming in incredible glory right now that no human eye will ever see. So many blooms we never see. This hurts me a little. I want to see them all. But they are there, praising God in their beauty, just by blooming. The thought really does take my breath.
But. I’m not always that moved by it. Sometimes I just like to work. I like to push my body. To make it sweat. To work muscles that don’t get a lot of play time in my day to day. I feel stronger and younger. I love forgetting how I look when I’m sweaty and muddy. I earned that sweat and mud. I’ll wear it.
I especially like mixing hard work with results. I like the difference I can make in a small space of ground. One minute it’s full of weeds and unkempt. The next minute, or hour, it’s tidy and beautiful again, though some results take years to see. Short term or long term, I have accomplished something worthwhile and wonderful.
The fact that removing weeds from a flower bed or planting a camellia is a very small accomplishment in the eyes of the world doesn’t bother me. If you think about it long enough, there are no big accomplishments. And if you think about it even longer, there are no small ones.
So I’ll do my thing outdoors, in my garden. And when I’m really old, I’ll probably do it with a patio full of potted plants. But it will be good work. And knowing me, I’ll need to step outside anyway.