I don't know how she does it, but it happens. For as long as I can remember, my mom has been planting and shifting, moving and sculpting new dimensions in her yard.
It's a vast, green place with lots of potential which eventually sprouts to life each spring at the hands of my mother. This yard is her ever changing canvas. I used to think she'd be content leaving it a certain way each year once she'd found the perfect spot to tame. But she'd layout and execute her latest impressive ideas the following years.
She's like her Creator in more ways than she can know. Never content to leave a work of art as is. Weeding and plucking, moving and shifting, planting and re-planting as she see fits. And it's continually more beautiful and marvelous than the former.~*
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