I saw a raven sitting on a garden gnome. I’m not the kind of person to put a gnome in my yard, but they’re fun to look at, sitting on a mushroom smoking a pipe, holding hands while petting a squirrel, standing with a walking stick while sporting an all-knowing gaze. Often, in the same yard, you’ll find fairies lounging around too, so maybe it all means something. I also like buddha heads and flamingos. I know what the Buddha suggests, let go of the mess in your head and enjoy the yard. I appreciate that. But the flamingo?

I sense a kind of magic in these characters, an embrace of something deeper, a connection to the miracle of a seed and a root in the ground, a little water and a little care and life flows over in shades of green and the smell of honeysuckle and rose. I think mother nature needs a gnome, putting its wry smile and red hat magic to work on the one thing that connects us all, the wonder of life emerging. We need a gnome immune to politics, one with an all-knowing gaze to remind us where we came from, a reminder as intimate as the food we eat and water we drink. Because, we are the garden.