Bamboo ~ which I used to call alien invaders ~ took over. Some of it as tall as the second floor. One of the fences was broken and it appears in the process that the Confederate Jasmine which covered it was damaged so most of the vine has died. On the side where this lizard was photographed climbing up the screen, one of my two Trumpet Vines has died. The Seven Sisters Roses looks like it still hasn't bloomed, and was damaged as well.
Hibiscus. Spearmint. Rosemary. It is doubtful that it will get to that point again.
Gardens grow. Die. And are reborn. Just like people. We change as the seasons change. We grow, change, and are reborn.
I feel as if this is my season of rebirth. A season of change. When the old me dies away... and a new me is born. A time of letting go of the past... planting new roots... where my vibrant soul can grow again.