GARDEN WHISPERINGS

I'm not certain, but I could swear my garden has been trying to send me messages. When I was out beside the garage not long ago, picking the last Satsuma orange off of our scrawny little miracle tree, I could swear I heard it whisper something. I think it was telling me, "I've kept this little tree going for years now, with no help whatsoever from you humans, even though your property isn't in its normal climate zone. See how it likes this cozy spot by the garage, protected from those gale force winds that whip through here? It looks lonely though, doesn't it? It wishes it had other citrus friends nearby, to keep it company. Maybe a Meyer Lemon, or a Mexican Lime?"

A few days later, when I was down in the new Cantina Garden, it spoke to me again. It said, "Remember that pitiful little shrub with the pretty purple berries? The one that came up year after year beneath this oak tree? I think it was a Beautyberry, or perhaps, a Coralberry. It sure must have loved this spot, if it was willing to force its way up through all that limestone and rubble, time and time again! Don't suppose he survived the construction, but I bet if you planted another one in the same spot, she'd be just as happy as our departed friend." Wonder what else the garden can tell me?

Of course, there's a pretty good chance it didn't say a thing, and I'm just a little nutty.