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  Skeetlin's Garden - 2004

Cleo Skeetlin's tree stands stark and bare in the February cold, but wee Cleo spends an unusual amount of time nearby. Always a mystical, magical and wise little creature, Cleo seems to envision the garden that will be. She sharpens her claws on the bark of the young willow, but only enough to leave her mark without serious damage.
   

Late spring of 2004 is a wet one, and I take advantage of the soft earth. I mark out my circle, and go to work with my small tiller.

I find a small fishpond, about three feet in diameter and a couple of feet deep, and sink it in the center of the circle. I begin collecting rocks to rim it.

I haul the two square concrete blocks I found behind the house to the circular patch of earth and set them up with plans to top them with a slab of stone for a small bench or altar.

   

Alas, the summer of 2004 is frought with drenching rainstorms.

Here, I stand on the porch and watch, helpless, as 20 bags of carefully spread mulch got washed into the culvert.

My little fishpond is dislodged, and has to be bailed out, pulled up and re-set.

The circle is washed out three more times over the summer, and work is stalled until next year.

   

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