Chanced upon this vintage-y illustration entitled The Gardener's Daughter. It has arrested me with my fancy for the rustic and pastoral. I somehow had that persona aborted by the unexpected need for our parents to sell the hectare of farmland they intended to spend the rest of their lives in. A big chunk of my childhood was exposed to farming, tending to livestock, and yes, my parents' love for gardening.
God is the consummate gardener. He knows the seasons perfectly well: sowing , tending and weeding, pruning, harvesting -- in the proper time. It is the season for pruning for me. I am glad i have a Father who knows what he is doing.
