An autumn garden can look untidy to us and generous to almost everything else. Saint Francis helps us see the difference.

The garden is not solemn. It is not holding back out of respect for human sorrow. The nasturtiums are moving in the breeze. The flowers are opening. The green things are reaching over edges and filling spaces. The bees are working with their usual impossible urgency, and in the apiary, colonies are dividing and beginning again.