A Day in the Life…

Now, I’m not one to brag about my abilities, but when it comes to intersecting thugs on runaway motorcycles, I have to say, I am practised.
This may not appear to you to have any relation whatsoever with gardening, but I assure you it does.

When the tension rises and the police are called, all thoughts turn to … gardening.

A string of humid days makes the whole family languid. The phlox is drooping and my rain barrel is dry and the cats are mesmerized with heat. The only solution is to get wet at the beach.

And so off we drive, slowly and surely, the four of us, to Ramsey Lake. Suddenly, out of nowhere (or a pedestrian bridge, if you’ve read the reports) a roaring motorcycle, reaching speeds of more than 100km/h, clips the front of our car; the rider is sent flying through the air, and the bike through a corner lot, smashing finally into a house.

We are unscathed, and so it appears is the rider, who promptly rises and trots off without a word, his bike smoking in the tall grass. I comfort my nine-year-old son that all will be well when the police arrive, yet his fears get the better of him: “Will they suspect it was me riding that bike?” he worries, chewing his nails. I assure him that they will take fingerprints to clear him, despite his appearance as a capable rider.

After a short time, the police arrive and the neighbours come out, offering us water and snacks. In essence, it is like a street party, with even a dickie-dee ice cream bike and local entertainment (police dogs can be so interesting). One of the neighbours, an old fella, remarks wryly that “the bike would have never hit that lady’s house if only she had cut her grass for once in her life.”

We look over at his own manicured lawn, safely out of harm’s way and murmur our agreement.

We spend the next two hours under the shade of a willow. More neighbours arrive, fresh off the garden tour I’ve had to miss because of the accident. I get lengthy descriptions of the best gardens, and we share our own personal successes with shade-tolerant plants and tomato varieties.

Const. Rizzi pipes up that Italians make the best gardeners and I tell him to bite his tongue, even though I know it’s mostly true. Feeling sorry for the kids, another constable releases them with my partner so they can go to the beach.

They choose to stay in case they miss something important.

At the end of it all, after we give our statements and we have our brief swim and return home and eat and get ready for bed, I enter the garden alone and note that the bee-balm is blooming a brilliant red. It must have happened while we were out.

I take it in, smelling its tart bergamot fragrance and feel that it’s a gift to have another day, healthy and safe, in the garden, in my home, in this beautiful northern city, with my family. Just another day in paradise.

Anne Boulton is an avid gardener who lives in Sudbury. Visit her blog at greenboots.ca or contact her at [email protected].