by Bill Tiepelman
The Serenity of the Savage Garden
In the heart of a sleepy town veiled in the whispers of time, where the days stretched lazily like cats in the sun, there lived an elderly woman named Edith. Her home, an antique edifice of weathered stones and ivy, hid secrets not just within its walls but also within its extraordinary garden. This wasn't just any garden; it was a savage garden, home to the most unusual, almost otherworldly plants. And yet, there was an undeniable serenity that enveloped it, a tranquility that seemed almost paradoxical. Edith, with her silver hair cascading like soft moonlight, was not your average gardener. She was a caretaker of the extraordinary, a guardian of the peculiar. Her plants were not the kind that bloomed with the kiss of the sun; they thrived on whispers, secrets, and the gentle touch of a soul that understood them. The centerpiece of her collection was a plant so bizarre it seemed to have leaped out of an alien fairytale. With its vibrant hues, it was more reminiscent of a living creature than a plant. Its leaves, speckled with hues of crimson and emerald, danced in the faint breeze, and its petals, if one could call them that, resembled the maws of some benevolent beast. To the townsfolk, Edith was a figure shrouded in mystery, the eccentric old lady with her bizarre garden. But to those who dared to look closer, she was a testament to the beauty of life in all its forms, a reminder that even the most ferocious-looking creatures could harbor a gentle heart. Each day, as the sun's golden rays filtered through the stained glass of her conservatory, casting kaleidoscopic patterns on the stone floor, Edith would tend to her savage garden. With hands as delicate as the wings of a butterfly, she would care for each plant, talking to them in hushed tones, sharing stories of days gone by. The Serenity of the Savage Garden was not a place of fear, but a sanctuary where the misunderstood and the magnificent coexisted in harmony. It was a reminder that, in the end, there is beauty in the unconventional, lessons in the peculiar, and a serene elegance in the heart of chaos. Edith and her garden were not just a part of each other; they were a mirror to the world, reflecting the enchanting symphony of life's myriad forms.
