This is my garden

On his way home last evening, my husband took the long way, wanting to stroll among the trees and greet the blossoms newly spilling out along the branches. I was already home, and he called me out, telling me to meet him on the sloping path where the kids sled when it snows, and to which we have had little access during the years of scaffolded tunnels with nets sealing us inside. We meandered among the trees and were reminded of how fortunate we are to live in this small haven in the middle of New York City, where a little of the natural world lies just beyond our door. This, my loves, is our garden.