In Florida, there are so many weeds that are out to get you that you don't really feel a bonding with the earth. Our lawn is mostly made up of weeds and stinging ant hills. The weeds are the kind that, even while wearing gloves, you get this burning sensation that lasts for days on your hands. I have become pretty adept at pulling them out, though. The trick is to get a grasp below the soil line and not touch the frilly leaves that are waiting to get you.
The ant hills can be illusive. If you step on one for just a second,and before you know it those fire ants are swarming up your ankles. And the discomfort from those bites lasts at least a week, leaving you scratching and applying ice every chance you get.
And you never know if a snake or some other creature is lurking among the plants as you dig among the plants in the soil, which is mostly sand. Then you add the humidity to the mix and you can see that this is not exactly a zen moment.
However, since I started weeding my sister's flower bed and began on mine this morning, I realized that there definitely is something therapeutic to this gardening thing. I just find myself a comfortable place to settle on the pleasantly, cool, soft grass and start digging my hands and trowel into the dirt. Some of those weeds are a bigger challenge than others, but at least I don't encounter anything more threatening than an earth worm now and then.
Yes, I have plenty of time to let my mind go and get those creative juices flowing. Just move my butt along the ground as I dig and pull and let my mind wander. Of course with some of the things my mind comes up with, I'm sure some people wish I'd stay out of the garden.
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