The other morning I took an unplanned walk around the property. Didn’t even take the dogs like I usually do. Just me, and for no reason other than I felt like it. I was so glad I followed that gentle urging. I was richly rewarded with beauty everywhere I looked. Dew turning the most common patches of weeds into shimmering fields of diamonds. Spiderwebs (LOTS of spiderwebs!) looking like lace doilies strung up between branches, sagging under the added weight of the water. Tiny tree frogs and bumblebees.

Each place I walked was unique and contained different beauty. The pond had cattails and frogs and Red Winged Blackbirds. The tree line had pokeweed and elderberries and some stubborn honeysuckle remnants. The pines were quiet and still, with soft pine needles and pinecones covering the path. All different, and all perfect.

I slowly made my way around the property, stopping frequently to appreciate the exquisite perfection that surrounded me. I thought about how each season causes the homestead to “change clothes.” The delicate violets, wild chives, plantain and clover we would add to our spring salads are gone for now, along with the daffodils and tulips. Daylilies, irises, and white elderberry blossoms have given way to purple elderberry umbrellas drooping with fruit and the lavender fireworks of milkweed. And far too soon, they will all sleep for a season, but they will awaken again at their perfect times.

I’m sure many people drive by and see a wild, unkempt, unmanageable yard. And I will admit, things got away from us this summer with COVID and all. We are finally feeling a bit more like ourselves again. It has been a struggle to keep up. Yet I am so thankful that even in the midst this neglected mess of a yard I can choose to find perfection, beauty, and satisfaction.