I consider all life forms that inhabit this garden to be as much my neighbors as are the humans whose property is in close proximity to mine.
At this time of year the garden is humming with countless bees. Those are the sort of neighbors that if you don’t bother they won’t bother you. Then there are the birds who visit the feeders and nest in the trees. They’re like the neighbor who comes to borrow a cup of sugar and forgets to return the cup.
There are the butterflies so like happy children flitting here and there, never still for more than a moment.
There are the masques who are like the kind of neighbor that plays their radio loud or has late night parties that keep folks awake.
There are the garden worms who burrow down out of sight and are like the neighborhood recluse hiding in the day time and emerging only after dark.
And of course there are the weeds who remind me of neighbors who let their property become unsightly and uncared for. Gardens, at least really interesting ones that tolerate diversity and lack of perfection are very much like neighborhoods or at least the neighborhood I call home filled with a variety that taken all together is a place where life finds a multitude of unique ways to experience itself.