A bruised reed He will not break, and smoking flax He will not quench…
I do miss the backyard from our home in Terrell. It was far from perfect, but it was ours and we loved spending time there, especially with friends and family, next to a fire in the pit.
In fact, looking back on it now, it was the imperfection of the yard itself that made it so lovable. The grass, wasn’t really grass. The fence, was so old that it had a green hue to it, and was painted an ugly tan on the outside of it, to hide its true age. Every time I dug or planted anything anywhere, I came across broken glass. The squirrels were vicious with my tomatoes. I eventually discovered a poorly made sidewalk from the deck back to the dog house, that I had to break up. Even in my compost pile, I was challenged by the number of pecans that sprouted up. And no, the pecans were never big enough to eat.
Yet, with all those imperfections, it was our yard and I realize how much I miss it. Living in an apartment frees me up from having to cut grass (weeds), but I enjoyed that. It was my patch of dirt to work and tend.