What gets me out of bed in the morning is my garden. When I moved into my mid-century ranch-style house, the front yard consisted solely of grass, yew bushes, and English ivy. Now it brims with color, attracting a variety of insects and birds. I am bipolar and regularly experience bouts of depression. They leave me holding on by my fingertips, hoping the attack will fade before I can't take it anymore. The garden is a lifeline with its ever changing beauty and the simple repetitive tasks needed to maintain it. While I often grieve at my limited capacity to contribute to a better world, my hope is that the beauty and abundance of this garden will make the lives of my human and animal neighbors a tiny bit better.