That was one of my mother's favorite places. She loved to sit there and rest before we walked back to the house. The bench was under two old peach trees that were kind of growing into each other at the top, and it made a perfect shade, a cool spot to rest on hot days. I planted impatients, coleus, and caladiums, and even if the hot sun and dry weather got to the other flowers, these under the biggest peach tree thrived. My mother would reach out to the flowers, touch them, and talk to them. And sometimes we would have a visit from a cat (sometime the cat would go on the walk with us) that would seem to enjoy the rest in the shade just as much as we did.
From the bench we could see the small garden, where I had tomatoes, peppers, squash, okra, and beans growing. We would sit on the bench and talk about the garden, which I hoped would make Mama feel more at home because she had farmed and had big gardens all of her life.
When my mother had rested enough or was getting tired of sitting there, we would walk on around, past the garden, and down the drive way that connected my sister's back yard with ours. We would walk past a fig bush that was producing wonderfully, and most of the time we would stop and pick some, because Mama loved figs.
Before going back in the house, we would look at the flowers just outside the back door again. The pansies thrived there. And there were a few miniature rose bushes that were doing really well, too. Other than roses, I think my mother liked the big yellow pansies with the black faces best.
Most of the time when we got back in the house, my mother was ready to have a glass of water and then sit in her chair to take a nap. But sometimes, if she was feeling really well and it was a nice day that wasn't too hot, she would want to go out to the front porch for a while. My mother loved to sit on the front porch, and most of the time she chose to sit in the swing. She would talk about the cars that passed on the highway, and things she saw (or thought she saw) in the yard, or across the hay field, or up the hill at my brother's house. We would talk about the flowers I was growing all over the porch, and sometimes she would say "so pretty." The six hummingbird feeders gave her something else to watch and talk about as our little visitors would fly in and out among the hanging baskets.
