Why My Garden Matters....

Early this morning, still wrapped in my robe and clutching a cup of coffee, I opened my back door to let my dogs out. The bluebird babies greeted the morning with hungry chirps, their appetites immune to the barking dogs and opening and closing of garage doors as the neighbors slowly left for work. The parents took turns looking for food and the chirping only paused when the babies' mouths were too full to complain. Every day I am amazed at the range of animals who find shelter and sustenance in my garden. Caterpillars I have never seen before munch hungrily away at the rue next to my summer regulars, Eastern Swallowtail butterfly caterpillars. A female hummingbird quickly sipped at the feeder while I ate my breakfast outside on Saturday, flying away before I could snap a picture. I know she'll be back. Every summer the hummers race from plant to plant, before perching in the dogwood tree to neurotically guard the feeder. I take a deep breath and slowly let it out. I can't stop the violent gushing of oil in the Gulf or the war in the middle east, but I can offer a small slice of respite to the winged creatures lucky enough to live inland. In the largest sense, it is nothing. To the butterflies and honeybees sipping at the flowers in the garden, it is everything.