My garden is the most important part of my living space--wherever that may be. Right now that is in east Central Illinois. In the summer it is where I grow food, tend chickens, plant flowers, feed wild birds, and am still amazed by the sound of the cicadas and the flickering of the fireflies. It is also where my wood shop is--a detached one-car garage with a lot of character, and a nice collection of old power tools that I have the privilege of using. In the fall it is where I feel relief that the weeds will die back, the colors will calm me, and I allow myself to think about my appropriately ignored indoor space. I put more layers on and spend more time in the shop, which is neither like a sauna nor a deep freeze. By winter it is the place I pine to be. But it also gives me something to be hopeful about and to plan for. It gives me the time to paint in my cozy upstairs studio with bright windows. And by spring it becomes the container for all my pent up crazy, and an explosion of ideas begin to materialize.