It's not that I don't love my oasis, because I do. It's still my favorite place to pause, putting everything else on the back burner. Whether I'm sitting in a lounge chair or lounging in the pool, sipping water, wine or gin, whether I'm bent over a troublesome set of grass roots buried deep beneath the soil and mulch of a flower bed, or whether I'm dining at the bar (outdoor kitchen), this is our own slice of paradise. A staycation getaway always waiting for me, just outside my back door. In fact, I can see the western edge from where I sit now, at my writing desk.
Rather than gardens with plants that need tending, my aspirations of writer-dom require me to focus on platform and presence and networks that need attention in order to bloom and grow. Damn. However, this blog will not necessarily die on the vine (as alluded to in this post), but, perhaps instead, this will be my secret garden. A respite for all of the thoughts and images that whirl and shake, eager to be released on the unsuspecting world.