bring your own garden

Perhaps it was due to the fact that the first couple of times I visited this city I was a passenger but regardless it has taken me a while to find my way. Since church is a main destination and Kermie isn't a speedy car I quickly found that the road that parallels the railroad tracks (Weber--pronounced as if it were webber) was both enjoyable, simple and fairly direct. Over a month ago I noticed an RV parked just down a side street beside an open field. The car alongside rather than the RV caught my eye as it was something like an El Camino with two large palms in the back. I would have later forgotten about it but the next time I drove I saw the pair--RV and car--again, but in a different spot. Time after time I see the mobile dwelling with its portable garden, changing locations but always near the whistling trains. Bring your own garden, even as you may not have a permanent address in the desert you can still have some green when you look out your window. Green hope, that someday you will find home. We are all in some measure at some level looking for a resting place, trying to find our way. I know my way better now and I wonder at the roving RV garden man--does he long for a people who smile when he opens the door? For arms that wrap around him and tell him no matter what, I won't let go? Somehow the El Camino garden puts this wandering soul in a different category than the usual vagabonds I see--as if he stands apart because he chooses to cling to decorative items and not settle for just getting by. Stop for a moment and smell the roses; gaze at a butterfly. Open your heart to beauty and hope.