Many times I have hare-brained ideas, I follow through, and they just don’t turn out in reality the way they existed in my mind. I’m delighted to report, though, that my fairy garden hasn’t fallen into that category. Things I’ve planted there have grown and as the summer progresses, it becomes more lush and inviting. As often happens, this success is exhilarating and has prompted new additions to the garden.
A family of gnomes has moved in. They especially enjoy spending their evenings hanging out together on their garden swing. The old grandpa gnome spends most of his afternoons, after he awakens from his nap of course, sitting on the miniature version of the people-sized bench Karl made.
Three new fairy houses have appeared as well, these are made of rock and ceramic tile (the builder made them herself using the tile saw and gingerbread house patterns!), and they are elaborate domiciles for the upper crust of the garden’s fairy population. The grandest one sits prominently on a gnarled stump and while fairies fly, they welcome their grounded neighbors by supplying a rope ladder for visitors. All in all, the residents seem well satisfied with their community.
I’ve learned a lot from my fairy garden. I’d like to say I’d learned it from the fairies, but they are elusive creatures and I have yet to converse with them. Nevertheless, two important certainties have grown alongside the pansies and roses and canna lilies. You have to make your own fun. Life is hard and troubles abound, they come at you uninvited and without welcome. Rejoicing in the Lord, rejoicing in the life He gives us is a choice, and the silly and whimsical help us remember that. Today is all that matters. No doubt, Wyoming’s harsh wind and cold temperatures are only, at most, six weeks away. The fairy garden is going to suffer, plants will die. It’s inevitable. But. We have today. That’s actually all we do have. This day, this moment, this smile, This.
