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  • Jordan Keller

Dog Walk Thoughts: Fey Garden Collection

There's a small garden at the turn round in my neighborhood. A triangular patch of nature no more than five sidewalk squares long. There's six knock back rose bushes that when bloom smell better than any bottle of perfume. There are two ever green trees that several more rodent-like neighbors live in. There are two small boulders that mark entry at one of the three spots where the sidewalk meets the street. There's a stone bench surrounded by ankle high grasses and three paver stones to access it.


I believe this place is connected to a Fey Wild and these are the moments that make me believe so...


Despite the weather, no aliments fall onto the garden. It remains free of fog, fallen leaves, wind strung litter and dog droppings. The temperature is always perfect. The nine or so steps through the garden is pure bliss.


Mojo, my 18 month crazy lab puppy, never pads at the grass, rips sticks from the trees, chases the wild life or so much as lifts his leg for a pretend pee while we cross the path. He somehow knows to respect this place.


On a Friday, when the college houses were celebrating late into the night after a victorious game, a single solo cup was left in the garden. A pair of neon green sun glasses sat on the bench for three days until the cup was removed. The next day so where the glasses, and we saw the early morning jogger again who always wore the shades. I believe once the litter was removed, the partier was returned.


I never see the squirrels run between the twin boulders. I never see a bird perched atop them, either. And last year when we suffered through three heavy snowfalls, they remained spotless. I believe this is where the veil is thinnest and the animals know not to chance falling in.


I've only seen one person work in the garden. A middle aged woman with hair the color of molten candle wax and eyes the same shade of the ever green trees. We exchanged pleasantries, she scratched Mojo's ear and I said, "I love this garden. It always feels so magical."

She doesn't acknowledge my statement, she reacts as if I said nothing at all, instead she tells me about the roses and how she cuts them back each fall so they bloom stronger in the spring. "The garden tender before me planted them, and the one before him made the bench. I haven't decided what I'll leave when I go."

"Go where?" I asked, my eyes drifting to the boulders.

"Home."


I'm still gathering evidence of the Fey Wild, without the fey catching on and either leaving, taking their magic with them, or punishing me for getting too close.





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