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A Pandemic Gardening Journal

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Matt Puchalski

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“I gazed again at that sad, dark house- the place that had been a prison. Elain had said she missed it, and I wondered what she saw when she looked at the cottage. If she beheld not a prison but a shelter- a shelter from a world that had possessed so little good, but she tried to find it anyway, even if it had seemed foolish and useless to me. She had looked at that cottage with hope; I had looked at it with nothing but hatred. And I knew which one of us had been stronger.”

“Oh, what the ocean did to a man. How unmatched it was. One could competitively build a giant castle made of sand or even hire architects to construct a true castle by the shore made of rocks and furnish its enormous insides with crystals. Yet plop him closer to the sea and within seconds, he will yield and feel as dumb as any other measly man lost at land.”

“When the roof fell in, a great funnel of smoke swarmed toward the sky, as if the old man's mighty spirit, released from its body--a little bottle--had swelled like the genie of fable. The smoke was tinted rose-hue from the flames, and perhaps the unutterable midnights of the universe will have no power to daunt the colour of this soul.”

“Dear Lord, I don’t need anything, but to know you’re there. Feeling you in my life gives hope in everything I do. The path you sent me down was rough at times, full of obstacles, and some struggles. There are more challenges ahead, but your strength serves me, and allows me to face anything with an open heart and mind. Thank you dear Lord, this path I travel makes me the person I am today, amen.”