In the summer of 2014 I was able to visit Danger Garden – aptly named as I was soon to find out. But I was entranced by the array of succulents and mostly xeriscape plantings that turned this home landscape into an eclectic oasis of sharp beauty! Loree Bohl’s plant collection and plant knowledge is vast and is a fascinating example of design using a wide variety of foliage color, cool containers, and campy humor. She expertly exploits the use of color echo and grouping to create little vignettes of interest throughout the garden. Enjoy this little visit to Danger Garden!
Grief is a river that now wanders through my life. Flowing from a white-capped mountain’s loss it can seem a gentle stream that belies swift currents building as the river takes its form.
Grief is a river fed from the streams of memories that lay hidden beneath the surface, feeding into the flow at its appointed time. Sometimes a trickle of laughter-filled reflections or at times a torrent of tender tears rush to fill that river that winds its way through my days and nights.
Grief is a river whose eddies hold moments both fearsome and restful, waterfalls of emotions, meandering miles of reflection.
Grief is a river that needs to flow. Holding the river back, I can create what seems a peaceful respite. Then a storm rages, the banks overflow, and grief pours uncontrollably through unguarded recesses of my heart. Grief is a river that needs to flow – to tumble and purify over the rocky places; to seep into dry, barren places where love was forgotten, where forgiveness is needed; sediment memories transforming to silt as the river moves its way down to the estuary.
Grief, though fed with ever-pouring tributaries of life’s history, is a river that has its destination. The river heads relentlessly toward release.
Grief is a river that marks and maps my life yet in its movement renews and changes the landscape of my heart.
Grief is a river that needs to flow.
In memory of Ann Hutchison Peake