Today we walked down to get breakfast. Along the way, we wished our neighbors a good morning, admired the blooming cactus -- fruit of Monday's cloudburst.
Walking home, Doug stopped to admire a rock wall. The builder of it said we could have what we wanted of the leftover rocks. Back we went, with handtruck and gloves. I chose, and Doug and Mo, his father, loaded one rock onto the handtruck. Mo wheeled it home, and placed it as I wished, patient with my small adjustments until I had it right. Now my sand garden has its three foci. Telephone junction box, birdbath, stone.
Doug and Mo went off to another project, and I had my garden to myself. I took the sand rake -- left by the previous owners -- and smoothed and molded around my foci. The birdbath needed a slight adjustment. I made it, and leveled it again. One side of the rake smooths and moves, the other makes inch-wide furrows and pulls debris out of the sand. First, the smooth side to make good contours. Then the pegged side to remove the fallen leaves. Then the pegged side again, to make pretty patterns in the sand.
I could see where I lost focus. Small wiggles, or gaps in the minifurrows. A little touch-up, and then the acceptance of it, as it is.
Soon I will place a bench, sheltered beside the shed and facing the sand garden. Then I can sit there. Just for me.