Banjos and Trumpets in the Garden

There's not much a few hours in the backyard can't cure. Melbourne's overlooked autumn provided an atmosphere like buoyancy today; rising up and giving hours of surprise sunshine. To make the day even better, a couple of fine people came by - the kind that don't need too much tending to, much like my favourite plants, friends who appreciate a good pot of tea, and a bum joke or two. 

Digging my hands into a bag of cow poo was a bit of a thrill today, until the banjo started tippling out of the lounge room speakers.  That was it then. I was like a kid at the beach - completely lost in the joy of it all. 

After the rain last week, there were worms everywhere. The plants that flowered were colourful again. The vegies looked strong and bulbous with water in their veins. 

I ended up in the yard on my own in the evening, finishing up just as the clouds came over and the breeze picked up. The strings and trumpets in Mercury Rev's Holes did the trick they  always do. And I ended up in the middle of the garden staring up at the sky with my arms out, making small squealy noises. 
Thank you universe for today. In my garden.