I had one of those moments today in the garden. It happened during a quiet morning, as the sun was shining, my muddy clogs on and a cup of coffee in hand as I walked around through my makeshift garden. The moment was something calming. Everything was perfect, in its imperfect way, and I felt complete.

Imperfect is easy to describe: empty containers that need planting, seeds that are going in “late”, tools I left out in the rain the day before, dog poop, a lawn that desperately needs to be mowed. There are projects I need to complete and so many things I could be doing “better”.

Instead of feeling overwhelmed, I just took a lovely deep breath and the moment washed over me. The chickens were happily clucking and gobbling up the scratch I fed them. The peas I planted (late) are popping out of the ground. The raised bed hold seeds of broccoli, swiss chard, arugula, lettuces, snow peas and snap peas, and a bunch of other stuff I shoved in the ground and forgot about. But everything was alive, or on the brink of breaking through the soil.

I live in a rental house tending a garden that is not mine. And I miss my old garden so much it hurts sometimes. Actually, it hurts a lot of times. But this moment I had made me feel like my garden is actually wherever I am. In the whole wide world I have a little place where I can make something happen and see some signs of success.

This garden used to belong to someone else and will only be mine a short time. Who has ever created a garden that will always be theirs? No one. That is not the nature of gardening. We have only moments where it is our home. And in this moment it was mine and I was surrounded by an overwhelming feeling that I was at home.

This is why we garden, yes? To make a place for ourselves in this world where beauty and life are all around us.

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