In boyhood, I sought solace in a little cranny
in our garden. As we grew, the garden
became an extension of me. It was quickly
overgrown with plants that flourished out
of control. In grade six I kissed a girl with
dark little curls, named Wanda Lou.
As my life unfurled that kiss wilted in the
tall shadows of neglect. Fear of guilt over
sexual preference spawned a patch of giant
worry weeds that took over the garden.
What should I do versus what I wanted to
do, wore bare spots near the garden gate.

Gardens...a place of comfort and solace; and a place to grow both literally and spiritually. Such a touching story, Glen🌱