My garden has gone from being a square of sand to relative lushness, with overabundant morning glory vines along the fence, trees planted to shade the grass, and eager holly hocks springing up from seeds dropped last summer. I've discovered that morning glory is not a good choice when your neighbours are planted fields. Morning glory is an aggressive grower and has to be trimmed regularly to keep it out of the corn, beans, or alfalfa just outside the fence. The horse parking lot of sand that was left just in front of the verandah has almost completely been overgrown by lawn, reducing still more the sand that gets tracked into the house. Thank heaven for small mercies. This spring the poinciana and jacaranda trees should be blooming and the small tecumaya bushes almost block the view of my bedroom wall. The parrots have done much too good a job of pruning the bouganvilleia for them to really flourish, poor things, but the cactus planted all around the flight cages to deter the incursions of prey driven terriers has grown enormously. Unfortunately, the terriers could care less about cactus, but the chickens no longer care about the dogs and the parrots never did.
My house still contains boxes that should have been unpacked during the year and weren't, but it has the lived-in clutter of books, dogs, and odd carvings or clay shapes that all my friends associate with me. I've amassed an impressive collection of candles to handle our frequent power failures. Seems to me that if I have to go by candlelight, it might as well be scented and have an interesting shape. I've accumulated a collection of rag kilims and bedouin pillows that form the basis of my decor in the living room, and a string of visitors has left an even larger collection of odd phrasebooks, guidebooks, and maps in the guest room.
My dog population got up to 22 at one point, but thankfully not for long. It's back down to more reasonble levels, well sort of reasonable. The chickens dropped from the initial four to two and are back up to four again, since a 6 year old friend presented me with a young rooster and a hen named after cartoon characters. The rooster so far has shown little inclination to crow, and what crowing he's done has been done at sensible hours like 8:30 am. My kind of rooster.
The horse population has increased slightly with my taking in the aging gelding that belongs to a friend of mine, being given another young gelding by a friend who was being transferred to the United States, and the purchase of a mare. I'm gradually gaining clients for riding tours and lessons, and I'm content that it isn't too many. The income helps to defray the feed bills even, but my life isn't simple enough to allow me all the time that I need for the horse business.
It's been a good year. Most of my neighbours have gotten to realise that my life is just about as unexciting as theirs. Where the path around my garden used to be a favourite gawking tour, now it's simply used as a normal thoroughfare. Not much to see but a woman feeding her birds, mowing her lawn, reading a book in the garden. The thrill is overwhelming. I'm very comfortable being their boring neighbour.
The year has gone by, the circle has been completed once again. Days will grow longer and warmer. The wheat just rising in the fields will grow golden at the beginning of the summer, and the night will become the best time for riding. I don't know what the next year will bring, but I know that I'm looking forward to it.