I lived in the city for so long that I forgot how exhilarating landscaping can be. I’m in the burbs, now, and I enjoy getting some sun, and exercise, mowing the lawn. I have buried some strawberry and tomato plants. I had sown some pansy and magnolia seeds. One of our small Halloween pumpkins that Joan left in the front yard by a small tree that she had transplanted from the woods that sit behind our home have started to sprout, and, maybe, we won’t have to buy pumpkins, this year, just harvest them from our front lawn.

I come from drunk tanks and short stays in state mental institutions. I tried to break down the doors of perception, but all I broke down, in the long run, was me. I am a miracle. I should be dead or in jail, but instead I’m growing a garden with a beautiful woman, listening to the birds sing outside my window.

I give a nod to my Higher Power for saving me, and to my friends Gigi and Kevin for helping me help myself. My higher power was always there, even when I was in the wilderness. Gigi and Kevin were always there, too. They were there when no one else was. The birds were always chirping, but for years, I couldn’t hear them.