In My Garden One of my aunts likes to say she doesn't care about gardening, she just wants to grow flowers.  Amen to that!  I'm a terrible gardener, but come spring, there are lots of flowers in my front and back gardens.  (Weeds, too, but I've decided I like the "wild" look.) In my mind, a "gardener" is someone who loves putting her hands in the dirt, who obsesses over her compost pile, glories in sweat and sunburn, and thinks trimming and staking and deadheading are the pleasantest pasttimes ever invented. Yeah, right.   It takes all kinds, doesn't it? The older I get, the more enjoyment I derive from merely sitting in my garden.  I settle back in the bright blue Adirondack chair my husband built for me and I notice everything:  The renegade morning glory that sneaks and snakes up the viburnum hedge, where it unfurls three or four pale flowers like flags to stake its claim.  The bluejay fighting two robins for private access to the birdbath.  The way the spearmint releases its heady aroma when the neighbor's cat brushes against it.  The whooshing of wind in the trees and the sticky-sweet hum of a honeybee as it inspects a stalk of lavender. I've known for years there's no better place to read a book on a lazy summer afternoon, but I've only recently discovered how pleasant it is to write outside.  My creative mind kicks into overdrive when I take my laptop computer out into the back garden.  And the best part is that I can lean my head back and close my eyes and daydream without guilt. Since I'm a writer, I like to call that "working on a story idea."       Here's how my garden looked on May 22, 2003:   It blooms only once a year and it has no scent, but this ten-foot-tall wild rose adds a jolt of color to the garage wall, so it's welcome in my back garden.          Although this bird bath sits on a well-traveled patio, it's nestled close to a 12-foot viburnum hedge, which gives our feathered visitors a sense of security.  I like to float roses in it, especially when we have parties. It's also fun to tuck votive candles in among the potted herbs. Did you spot the brass frog?  He's actually a water-sprinkler, and I use him a lot.     That's my "dreaming chair," back there in the corner, snuggled between a pot of "Blue Wave" petunias and a lovely pink-and-purple fuchsia. That's a blue fanflower in the hanging basket on the left. The hybrid tea roses in the foreground aren't quite ready to bloom. The large patio (only half of which is shown in this picture) is bordered on two sides by massive viburnum hedges that bloom like mad in the early spring and smell so good I almost swoon every time someone opens the back door.       This view from the sidewalk that bisects my free-form front garden doesn't show any depth, but that's a white campanula in the foreground, backed by dying daffodil foliage and some up-and-coming ferns that will snuggle up to the whiskey-barrel fountain.  At the bottom right are more skinny stalks of campanula, which haven't bloomed yet, and you can see a few leaves from a clump of Japanese anemone, which won't take off until fall. The climbing rose is the wonderfully fragrant Zepherine Drouhin, and to the left are two pink-flowering dogwoods. That's a stepping-stone path behind the fountain, made with about fifteen chunks of limestone in irregular shapes. I just potted the annuals in the window, so you can't really see the coleus, blue lobelia, red impatiens, and spikes, but soon they'll be spilling over their containers and we'll be able to see those splashy colors through the lace curtains of our living room. This is not a well-groomed garden, but we enjoy lots of color and texture, thanks to a wide variety of perennials.  Because our house is a smallish Cape Cod, I like to call this half-wild hodgepodge my cottage garden.     I just love bringing flowers into the house. I'll keep this "windowsill garden" blooming over my kitchen sink all summer long.     How do you feel about your garden? Is it your refuge from a hectic life? Do you enjoy your coffee and say your morning prayers as you watch the sun rise? Is your garden a favorite playground of your grandchildren? e-mail Brenda (And be sure to let me know if I may post your comments here.)       Betty Holman writes, "The garden is a place I've found to be closer to God.  The earthworms tilling the soil, the birds flitting from flower to bush to tree, keeping the bugs under control, the fragrance of roses filling the air.  Oh, so many gifts we take for granted."   Robyn Lampman writes, "I love having a garden...and my son and I say thank you each night in his nightly prayers for either the sun or rain for helping our garden to grow. It is wonderful to see his fascination with the new growth, the earthworms and heck, even a blade of grass!  A pity really that often we forget to stop and marvel over God's smallest creations the way a child does."     (To Brenda's HomePage)