With the Passing of Time

The Garden (propagate drabble)

Posted on: April 30, 2008

He loved feeling the soil, pushing his fingers into rich loam and letting its weight fill his hands. There was something peaceful about planning a new bed, preparing the ground and planting the seeds. He could remove himself from the hectic pace and get lost in the precise rituals of propagating plants and trimming hedges.

A day in his garden was like a weeks vacation. His only companions the occasional jay or warbler, the solitude in his mind provided a background conducive to calming thoughts. A respite that eased his way toward releasing negativity, a way to reconnect with himself.

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Willingness to join soil, sound, hands; memory follows me ~ Viggo Mortensen
April 2008
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Credits

Daily words come from Merriam-Webster's word of the day. All rambling comes from my head.

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© 2008 - 2009 With the Passing of Time. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to With the Passing of Time with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.
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