Episode 2: The Forsythia Shrub
Music - "In the Garden" - Composed by C. Austin Miles, Piano by Jessica Roemischer
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Subscribe on Apple Podcasts & Stitcher
When I was young, I loved playing in our garden. There were different flowers, and plants, and trees. When the snow of winter melted, the air became warmer. Daffodils appeared. I loved to watch the sun shine through their yellow petals. They seemed to be smiling!
As the days warmed more, I could go outside without my fleecy jacket. Tiny flowers were appearing. They were called lilies of the valley. There were so many! They looked like little white bells covering the ground. I walked carefully near the blossoms. I didn’t want to step on any of them. They were a carpet of blooms that smelled so sweet!
Our garden had a pathway of stones. Sometimes, I’d walk without my sandals. As I did, I liked to feel the stones with my toes. Each stone was different. Some were smooth. Others were rough. It was like they had their own personalities and I got to know each one.
At the end of the path was a large plant. It was called a forsythia shrub. In springtime, tiny yellow flowers adorned the sprigs. As the warm days went on, the blossoms turned into little green leaves.
One summer, I was sitting in the garden. Perhaps I was four or five. The soft grass beneath me was a cushion-y blanket. I watched as the ants crawled here and there. They seemed to be talking to each other! The honey bees explored the clover. They didn't seem to mind that I was nearby, and I didn't feel afraid, either.
After a few minutes, I looked up. The forsythia shrub caught my eye. I noticed its delicate branches spraying up and over. It was shaped like a canopy, and seemed to hold a secret inside. I was curious! I lifted myself and wandered towards it.
As the days warmed more, I could go outside without my fleecy jacket. Tiny flowers were appearing. They were called lilies of the valley. There were so many! They looked like little white bells covering the ground. I walked carefully near the blossoms. I didn’t want to step on any of them. They were a carpet of blooms that smelled so sweet!
Our garden had a pathway of stones. Sometimes, I’d walk without my sandals. As I did, I liked to feel the stones with my toes. Each stone was different. Some were smooth. Others were rough. It was like they had their own personalities and I got to know each one.
At the end of the path was a large plant. It was called a forsythia shrub. In springtime, tiny yellow flowers adorned the sprigs. As the warm days went on, the blossoms turned into little green leaves.
One summer, I was sitting in the garden. Perhaps I was four or five. The soft grass beneath me was a cushion-y blanket. I watched as the ants crawled here and there. They seemed to be talking to each other! The honey bees explored the clover. They didn't seem to mind that I was nearby, and I didn't feel afraid, either.
After a few minutes, I looked up. The forsythia shrub caught my eye. I noticed its delicate branches spraying up and over. It was shaped like a canopy, and seemed to hold a secret inside. I was curious! I lifted myself and wandered towards it.
As I approached the forsythia, I discovered a little opening where the branches parted. I peeked in and bent my body low. I moved inside. Light came through the twigs, making bright shapes on the brown dirt. In one corner was a grey rock. It was a little seat placed there for me! I sat down and felt its cool, smooth surface.
As I sat on the rock, the branches of the forsythia created a screen around me. I peeked out. I glimpsed the flower patch, the grass, the trees. Nestled in my little cavern, I realized something. No one knew that I was there! A few minutes passed, and a few more. I didn’t want to leave. I’d found my own secret place!
Sheltered by the forsythia, I felt peaceful and happy. And what’s more, the forsythia seemed happy, too! Finally, I stretched my arms and slowly moved from the rock. Crouching down, I squeezed my body through the opening. I was smiling. Secretly, that summer afternoon, the forsythia shrub and I became friends.
As I sat on the rock, the branches of the forsythia created a screen around me. I peeked out. I glimpsed the flower patch, the grass, the trees. Nestled in my little cavern, I realized something. No one knew that I was there! A few minutes passed, and a few more. I didn’t want to leave. I’d found my own secret place!
Sheltered by the forsythia, I felt peaceful and happy. And what’s more, the forsythia seemed happy, too! Finally, I stretched my arms and slowly moved from the rock. Crouching down, I squeezed my body through the opening. I was smiling. Secretly, that summer afternoon, the forsythia shrub and I became friends.
The flowers seemed to be smiling...