It's always been that way for me.  A generation of excitement and anticipation, thinking of being in a green space, preferably closed in with trees predominating; a sense of mystery prevails.  Something deep within beckons. 

As with the satisfaction of being out in nature that stirs within me, so too when there is the opportunity to plan a garden, to plant living things, to look forward to their maturity, their blooms, their wonderful presence that I am able to soak myself in, time and again through easy access.

Somehow, contemplating a walk in a forested area, despite feeling physically tired, imbues me with energy and the tired condition dissipates, as I stroll in the woods, enjoying its enveloping presence, feeling free and unencumbered with concerns.  Working in the garden, among the plants, in the warm, moist soil, engenders similar feelings, along with a deeper one of extreme pleasure.

Yesterday afternoon my husband went on a shopping expedition while I was busy at home, and he brought back a few surprises for me.  A gardening venue was selling off the remaining items in their summer planting inventory at a fraction of their original retail price, and he ended up buying two miniature globe cedars, and three ground-cover junipers.

We have a small garden out in front of the house on one side of our driveway centering around a blue spruce.  It happens to be very dry in that micro-climate, with the roots of the spruce soaking up whatever moisture happens along there.  Spring bulbs manage to survive, poking their colourful blooms up faithfully in the spring, but the many hostas that I've planted there have done dismally, and the coral bells no better.  As well, the annual wax begonias that do well in some years have been afflicted because of the drought, and despite our constant applications of water by watering pail, they have slowly succumbed.

In came the solution, we hoped.  Yesterday afternoon, in a cool light drizzle that never amounted to anything actually resembling rain in volume, we moved the surviving hostas and placed them elsewhere in other garden plots, and in their place planted the newly-acquired miniature spreading junipers. It looks much neater now, and much more hopeful.