Tag: hidden

Hidden

The entrance to our hidden garden

It’s late afternoon in the garden, and it’s November. The coral-colored blossoms on the yucca have turned into dry stalks (pictured above right). But there’s something about a hidden garden that’s always intriguing, even to its owners.

The shady side

The shady side of the garden is my favorite spot, especially in the heat of summer.

But the sunny side has its appeal as well, even in November when most of the blossoms have gone. The potted olive tree on the left is only two years old. This year it produced some ripe olives. (Yes, Gentle Reader, I did taste one off the tree. Big mistake.)

If you look closely through the branches of the olive tree, you will see an image of Our Lady of Guadalupe gazing down upon it all.

This is Mary’s Garden.

All Things Tall

The view above the trees and rooftops from my back door

I like looking at things that are tall. When I walk, I look at the treetops (which is sometimes hazardous to my feet), and I look at the mountains. Though I love them both, the mountains provide the best food for thought. There is mystery there. In spite of all the expert climbers who have ever climbed, I am convinced there are places that no human foot has touched. I imagine treasures there, known only to the birds — a rare blossom rising from a crag in the rocks, a hidden cave that glistens with veins of gold, a hidden spring, a strange creature never previously seen.

Beyond their physical mystery, mountains remind me that there is so much more to life than I am able to discover or grasp. There is so much more in this world that I will never know. This is a source of abiding joy for me. Life is inexhaustible. There is always more. There is always hope. There is always God.

Invisibility Cloak

Nesting White-winged Dove

This morning my husband mentioned that a dove was nesting in one of our Vitex trees. I hadn’t noticed. She had hidden herself and her nest so well that it was difficult to get a photo. I quietly moved between the low-hanging branches for the best shot. She didn’t move a muscle or bat an eye. I assured her that I meant no harm.

It seems late in the season for a new family, but perhaps new life is never out of season. No doubt the chicks will grow quickly. I hope they survive the winter to come.