The Wheelbarrow

The Wheelbarrow

By Jane Goodhew

 

It was still early Spring, but the sun was shining and the birds singing. So, time to make use of it and get out into the garden which was in a very sorry state after a long and wet winter.  In the corner, hidden beneath years of growth and garden refuse, I'd kidded myself was a nature reserve for wildlife, like the resident hedgehog and anything else that cared to live there I spied the remains of my beloved, but past its prime, wheelbarrow.  Unfortunately, it was rather dilapidated with its wheel missing so not much use as they were rather hard to replace but, waste not want not.   I dragged it out and hosed it down and already it began to look more presentable after a good scrub and with all the debris removed. In the shed was an old pot of paint so out came the sheet which I spread over the patio and placed the barrow upon it and started to sand it down and then give it a coat of paint.  That wasn’t enough so rifling through the cupboards and finding more pots of unused paint I got them all out and began with a mural on the sides.  Flowers, trees and fairies floated around the sides and the inside was a vivid green that rose in layers till it ended in the deepest blue for the sky.  Left in the sun to dry I went off to the garden centre to buy some potting soil, plants and new pots. By the time I returned my wheel barrow had taken on a new lease of life as the paint had dried and the mural looked like something from an Enid Blyton book combined with the Flower Fairies or at least it did to my biased eyes.

 

Now to decide where to place it before putting in the newly potted plants to finish off my project.   After some deliberation, I decided near the Weeping Willow overlooking the pond and near the rustic bench was the perfect spot especially as I had some left over patio slabs that I could put down for it to stand on and not sink into the lawn or topple over into the pond.   The end result was just what I wanted so with a freshly made cup of tea I sat down to admire my handy work and catch the last rays of sun before it left for the day and listen to the birds sing.    Bliss.                  

                                       

       

                                                                                     

 

Copyright Jane Goodhew