Hidden Spaces, Secret Places

Surprise me, I say to my garden, when I slip out into the outdoor every morning. Show me something I haven't noticed before. And it does. It always does. It seems to thrive on the challenge. Something, invariably, has come up during the space of the seemingly-few hours between I was last out there on my interminable search.

These are little things, a seedling that has suddenly decided to make itself available to the fresh air, the sun, encouraged by the gentle rain and the fact that it's parent-bloom scheduled it to return at some later time, to delight us with its unexpected presence.

And then there are the accelerated, truly surprising growth spurts where a vine suddenly curls itself over and over again onto a supporting pole, in an enthusiasm one might only suspect was possible in the space of a few short hours, from one day to another. And those flowers! where on earth did they erupt from; I cannot even recall the presence of the buds during my careful daily perambulations.

The inventory of which I'm so proud, with which I'm so enthralled changes daily. I can hardly credit nature's constant attention to detail. When does she find all that time to attend to everything, for heaven's sake?