Through the Garden Gate...

Oh how I love my garden gate. Discovered in the rubbish in our former chicken coop/toy stashing area. Erected by my John and Jim Allen former resident on this property. This gate was used by Jim's father who had a garden on this spot back in the day. Love the family history involved in this gate. Jim found out that I wanted to use the gate someday and went and bought some posts. Viola! John even bought a nifty latch (not pictured) and attached some plastic mesh at the bottom to keep out all of the angels of destruction, a.k.a bunnies and cute little baby bunnies. The gate looks like it stands alone because you can't see the chicken wire fencing surrounding the Garden. Gardens are magical places, gates the enticement to see what's on the other side. Here's a poem that I love about gardens.

Garden Gate

trampled pathway
kutzu vine binds access
chokes once thriving plants
tattered garden gate
guards broken dreams
hopeless probabilities
terra cotta memories

hears silent sounds
swings open

aspirations lost
now unfurl
abandoned visions
misplaced expectations
gathering possibilities
flourishing again

D.A. Hemingway