Today, for the first time in weeks, I was able to work in my garden. A back ailment had kept me from tending to it, and the front bed was a bit overgrown. To my surprise, as I began to examine it closer, I stood and looked in utter disbelief. And then, I just smiled.
Growing in the garden is a mimosa tree.
Yes, you read that correctly.
A mimosa tree.
Inexplicable.
No one in my family planted it; it just magically appeared. As well, there are no other mimosa trees on our street, and I don’t recall seeing any that stand out to me on nearby streets or in the neighborhood, either.
The significance of that mimosa tree is that my first novel is called BENEATH THE MIMOSA TREE. It’s a love story that features the idea of forgiveness at its core.
The reason that I chose a mimosa tree for the story is because in the backyard of my childhood home in Bowie, Maryland, we had a stunning mimosa tree next to our patio. Its leaves were healthy and its blossoms were bright pink. It gave off a lot of shade. I loved that tree because it was so distinctive and unique.
I’ve wanted to plant a mimosa tree in our backyard here at our home for a while. With many home projects going on over the five years we have been here, I just never got around to it.
So, I guess a magic fairy took care of that chore for me.
I’m still in awe.
Thankful.
And feeling some magic in the air.
