The backyard fence formed a boundary between the formal garden and the wild woods. Although both were rich with vibrant life, in so many ways they were worlds apart. Where the garden was ordered, disciplined, and polished, the woods remained an unruly mix of greenery, shadows, and mystery.
As the evening’s shadows began to deepen, a fairy flitted out of the woods and into the garden. With arms spread wide and palms flat open, she trailed a wake of glowing fairy dust.
The fairy adored this garden and all it nurtured, and especially so the love and care lavished on it by the gardener. How delightful to see those rows of color-coordinated roses, the wisteria neatly hanging from the trellis, and the early daffodils bordering the path in sinuous lines.
But she also knew that orderliness, discipline, and polish weren’t nearly enough. Certainly not for these beautiful earthbound beings.
Each evening after the gardener retired, the fairy brought an offering. Laced throughout her fairy dust was the raw, pure essence of the deeper woods. It was a subtle yet powerful magic she scattered each night, and the garden rejoiced and thrived.
Over the years the garden’s beauty earned something of a reputation. Garden lovers from across the land began making long and sometimes tiring pilgrimages to visit and admire. For many, an afternoon enjoying the flower’s vibrant colors and the shrubbery’s lush and luxuriant foliage became a cherished, lifelong memory.
A passion for plants and liberal doses of fairy dust; two gardeners in harmony.