Meet Phil. He's a permanent fixture in my garden. He sits contentedly between two winged euonymus keeping watch. In the spring, he welcomes the first burning bush buds. He disappears almost entirely under their leaves in summer but peaks through when the occasional breeze blows through. He's there for the fall's spectacular fiery display and he waits for winter to end without complaint with about a foot of snow on his head.
Good old reliable Phil. I know I can count on his happy mug every time I look out the kitchen window. It's like being greeted by an old friend.
Phil was a gift from my in-laws. I liked him from the very start. But I never expected that he would grow on me so much. Without him, my garden is just incomplete. I think this has everything to do with Phil's attitude. He sits there with his chin resting on his hands and a vague smile across his face. The picture of serenity.
Of course, that's exactly why he's the perfect fit for the garden. After all, aren't gardens meant to be an escape? An oasis of calm in a crazy world? A peaceful hideaway? My garden is all that to me. So it's fitting that my garden's keeper embodies the serenity I seek.