Just about everything my friend Miss Marie does is an art form. It’s one of the reasons I love to be around her. The photo above is of the side of her darling garage.

The potted plants, as they are placed here, I consider a form of art. I love walking by it, which I do most mornings. When the weather starts to turn colder later in the fall, it’s as if they grow legs, climb down off the wall, and make a slow, reluctant march toward Miss Marie’s 900 square foot house.

Just like little kids who never want to go in after playing outside all summer long, I think the plants hope for a few more warm days before the snow flies.

I’ve seen the potted plants lined up on the sidewalk leading to the steps of her back porch as the days grow shorter. Then the next time I come by, I notice that they have magically made it up the stairs and onto the back porch.

It’s only when there is the threat of cold days on end that they finally find their way inside where they take up residence in the sunny pantry on the west side of the house.

And I’m sure they dream of the day they will begin the march back out to the side of the garage to soak in the sun and makes passerby’s smile once again.

But it’s reminders such as this, and time spent with Miss Marie, that I continue to strive to weave creativity into every aspect of my life, seeing even simple pleasures as a form of art.

The ordinary arts we practice everyday at home are of more importance to the soul than their simplicity might suggest. -Thomas Moore

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