That one was the hardest of all, it was 15 minutes from home, and you had to walk through a public park to the back. Our plot had not been tilled in years and my husband actually took to using the claw part of hammer to disengage the weeds. It turned into a great lead for a sermon, in which he never lets me forget the fun of that time. The garden was a struggle, but all the same we managed a great yield, which we shared with parishioners and the food pantry.
Things have been a little busy, so I am trying to get out there for a few minutes each day to tend to the weeding. Watering it in the evening, while things are quiet or not so quiet if the children are still out, brings a different kind of peace. The warm breeze, the aroma of the grasses, dirt and especially the sound of the water spraying from the hose, take me back, remembering my sweet Dad as he watered his garden in years past. He's still watering it, its just a smaller one now. These routine little things help feel like the distance is not so great.