like all living beings age and change.
why wouldn’t they?
the passage of time brings about this,
slowly, creepingly, and almost always takes one by surprise.
i caught a glimpse of a woman,
and i realize in amazement that it’s me.
when i was young
(i am still young now, i pretend and would want to believe),
i always rebelled against the idea
that a good thing also has to end.
how could it?
and when i got myself into gardening,
it became quite clear,
because in a garden,
change is nature’s way of managing it all
– animals, vegetables, flowers, trees.
the sands of the desert shift, and mountains erode.
everything changes, and somehow or other it all works.
it’s hard to say whether a garden is a metaphor for life
or the other way around.
certainly, each phase of my life
has been clearly reflected not only in my mirror
but also through the windows of my soul
that give me a glimpse of my garden, that is,