This is on my way to work, the 100 feet or so I walk every morning to my studio. My little third acre where I hang out and find comfort from the world's problems. This was all barren ground forty years ago and has changed radically over the years, at times being a debris field for left-over construction projects, a playground and digging field for my children, and always somewhere in here, a garden. I have had gardens all my life, sharing them with my parents as a youngster and on my own since I was seventeen. Sometimes I was moving about and they were simple and small and maybe just a flower pot but I have always been amazed at the promise of a seed. If I am nice to it, it is nice to me! Wouldn't life be so nice if it were that simple?