Notes from a garden

It hasn’t been a winter for blog posts, somehow. Not for lack of things to think about and write about, certainly not for lack of time, but rather for lack of energy and focus. Our stay in Mexico has been dominated this year by the search for an explanation and relief for my ongoing hip and leg pain which began long before we left home in December and continued to worsen during our first months here. After a couple of false starts, the explanation finally came a month or so ago with an MRI showing a badly herniated disc. The relief? I’m still working on that. The resolution won’t really come before I get home.

And so I have spent an inordinate amount of time this winter sitting. Sitting at my desk, but writing less than usual. Sitting in the comfy chair beside my desk, but reading less than usual. Somehow allowing the months here to pass without engaging in much, and learning to get around the city by car instead of on foot.

Today I am sitting in the sunshine (yes, I do know what’s going on at home), on the patio of a beautiful home on the hillside outside Guanajuato. We have come for the first time to the home of a friend who’s asked Jack to help her learn to use photoshop. I’m here to lounge in the sunshine and enjoy the views and gardens. I think there’s a meal in the offing as well.

I’m always in awe of such garden creations…thinking of my annual angst over where to put this year’s twelve tulip bulbs or how close together to plant the new shrubs beside the house. I just don’t have the spatial skill to imagine such a creation, and without a doubt I lack the commitment to bring it to fruition. So I’ll just enjoy the work of others. The thing about this particular garden that amazes me most is that it’s just a six-year old project–building of course on much existing vegetation.

There’s a soft breeze—cliche, I know, but it’s true—blunting the heat of the sun. I’m looking from one hilltop to another, with the city in between. Lately, my mind has been shifting homeward, but at this moment I could stay on this patio forever.

I won’t of course. In ten days, I’ll be winging my way home, glad to see kids and grandkids, looking forward to spring in northern Ontario, whenever it arrives. Perhaps it’s waiting for us to get home!