State of the Garden

Pantry items, long storage organic cheese, greens from the garden.
As I eat these simple, inexpensive, nutritious meals, I ask myself:
How much do I need?
What kind of economy do I want to support for when we can go out again?
What kind of businesses, of food delivery systems, of community support and interaction?
I have reorganized my budget–not having eaten out or bought anything in weeks and thinking about how little I miss it except as a treat, and having already come within range of this as these dark times have been progressing, I have now dedicated a full bi-weekly paycheck to monthly giving. I am blessed to still have a steady paycheck, health insurance, and the knowledge to live well on a budget.

Long time neighbors and participants in the rose garden yoga posse, who have now retired and are moving to be nearer children and grandchildren, gave me their yard sign.
I will miss them for practice and around the neighborhood. I like, if they must go, that I will think of them fondly every time I come home to this exhortation and its call to practice.

I was at a meeting at another agency that was built in the years when civil service was a respected nd honored activity. The garden is clearly maintained, but I have never seen anyone in it, and wonder whether entrance by anyone other than maintenance is permitted. Does the solitary air of the garden make it feel more personal and sweet? Or does it seem isolated and less intriguing because of the absence of people?
I wonder whether people who are naturally drawn to meditate would be the ones who would answer yes to the first question and no to the second.