The Holiest place I know is my garden. This is the place of beauty and magic, of death, decay and rebirth. When I am working in my garden I am on my knees, deep in prayer with every hole I dig or every weed I pull. I see the life that forms, both seedling and fledgling. I see them grow and gain strength. I see them give joy to others in nourishment and wonder. I see my garden as a sanctuary and a refuge for myself and those who make it their home. I enter its gates at sunrise every morning for a chance to glimpse the glory I know so well, because I have chosen to be a part of it. I watch the shadows at sunset move along the garden beds and I watch the bees collect the last drops of nectar for the day. And yet, there is still so much that I miss, and I think that is why I continue to create and tend my garden year after year, because I am hungry to see every bit of Holy Magic it has to offer.