How Do You Say Goodbye to a Garden.

The apple tree that we planted when it was literally just a shy little stick is now 25 feet high and glowing with apples.

The trellis by the garage that held the first small clematis vine is now covered and bursting with the blue stars of that brave climber.

And the two rose bushes that were dead for years and then amazingly resurrected themselves into blood red and enormous calvaries of their own divine making.

But then there is the constant lurking nemesis of the hateful bind weed, our sworn foe and enemy that curls itself insidiously around our precious plants, slowly choking the life out of them. Will anyone fight this slithering, slinking terrorist of the garden when we're gone?

There may be others after us that will care for this garden but no one can ever love it the way we have. It was nothing but a mud patch filled with weeds when we first met and now it is a glorious, gorgeous testament to years and years and years of work and struggle and love.

There are empty landscapes that await our tending. We look forward to that with the enthusiasm of bold explorers. We turn and look at the little paradise we created and wonder, how do you say goodbye to a garden?