Gardening

I am not a gardener.  I thought I could be, but I can't.  I wanted to love gardening because that is what adults are supposed to do--be adultish.  I searched for meditation found in spending a few hours each day transforming our backyard into a small paradise but was bored after a few minutes and lacked the imagination to create my own oasis.

I spent a few days this spring pulling out the weeds and ripping up the broken patio in our yard hoping for inspiration.  I decided to start small with morning glory to cover up the piles of concrete and sunflowers to add some color.  In other words, I planted weeds.  WEEDS!  The worst part is that the morning glory decided to grow in the neighbor's yard and the few that stayed in our yard choked the sunflowers before they even had a chance to grow.  I couldn't grow weeds.  My gardening days are over.

But I have a birdfeeder.

Birds do not require weeding, they find their own sunlight, and they provide a little bit of music to my day.  Each morning starts with the sparrows and finches.  They like to take turns at the feeder and hop around the different branches waiting for a chance at the seeds.   A mourning dove comes by a little later to scoop up the seeds dropped on the ground.  Things quiet down until the afternoon when a blue jay shows his strength and pushes the little guys out of his way.  Just before sunset the blue jay is chased of by a cardinal.  I have a hummingbird feeder but they haven't joined the party yet.  Birds are much easier than flowers.

I might start making my own feeders.  That's adultish.