We have our very own meadow. I still can't believe it. (I still can't believe this whole farm thing... I'm thinking I'll wake-up inside that tiny apartment some morning where we lived only 6 months.)

When we dwelled in our 'sardine can' neighborhood for nearly 15 years, I longed for a place I could step out the door and walk to which belonged to no one. A wild sort of place where I could wander off the straight sidewalk and explore, even for ten minutes.

I never found it. Not there in the suburbs, anyway.

But here it is, finally, in my own backyard, literally. A meadow still wild, untamed, especially around the edges and I stroll out there any time I need to, well, breathe. Any time I need that 'hiking in a meadow feeling' I never did satisfy in the suburbs.

Yet here's the thing. I watched that PBS show about Anne Spencer's garden and got all excited. "I could do that," I mused. "I could spend years creating an orderly, lovely garden back in the meadow and people would exclaim and wonder how I did all that alone."

But you know? After that program I walked out to the meadow and it struck me--I don't want an orderly garden back here with it's brick sidewalks and bordered flower beds. I want it to remain like this--




And I want the color to come from wildflowers, ones which magically pop up in odd places. If I have Black Eyed Susans, well, I want them to come up on their own, free, as they do now.

Maybe it's because I'm lazy. I don't know. An orderly, planned garden would take a heck of a lot of work, indeed. But mostly I want a wild meadow, I believe, because of those 15 years of too much order outdoors. Of too many pristine yards plotted and manicured to the square inch... and never being allowed to wander off the sidewalk to a forgotten or unexplored land.

Oh, someday I want to put a screened gazebo out there in the meadow and surround it, closely, with flowers. But from inside that gazebo I want the view to remain wild. Untamed. Silent. Even if no one understands. Even if no one 'gets' what I'm attempting to do. Or not do. (God often asks me to do things others won't understand. He calls it Good Discipline.)

But perhaps other people long for a piece of nature on the wild side. Maybe others are searching for such a spot in which to stroll and quiet their busy minds.

I've discovered such a place ...

...and how amazing to be able to share that gift.