So I have a garden at the back of the house I live in. It is an old house. And an old garden. Or rather WAS a garden. Now it is…an untangled mess. A natural roof of twenty years of grapes growing wild, together with gigantic hibiscus trees, lemon and orange trees and one even larger peach tree. When the first rain came we could count the rats climbing up and our hands were not enough…
So every day when I need a break or just act out or something I go to my little garden and battle this intertwined mess of vegetation. For whatever reason this garden has started to become like a battle mirroring myself. Like snakes the arms of some of them are easily 6 metres long. Covered in jasmine and everything else growing like crazy in all sorts of direction.
I cut. I saw. I pull. I push.
Bend myself backwards.
It took me almost a year to get to the point that I could see the sky through the window and we burned hibiscus in the fire place all winter. Now I am working sideways to create some type of free space. Talking to the trees. How nice it will be to see and feel the sun. How fresh not to have rats and other animals making houses in them and dirty everything.
One lemon tree especially. I told it next year it can grow free again. When everything else around it is down. I think this is really my garden. Both the therapeutic work in clearing it out as well as the plain symbolism. After 20 years of not taking care we have found each other and now we co-create whatever this will be like.
350 signals to. Calling home.