To be present to the present

The planting and weeding and digging and planning has proved to be a God's end to me.
In the last 9 months of living under quite severe stress I have found such solace in the yarden, as I call it, since it lies somewhere between a yard and a garden in its existence.
As a self-appointed guardian of Jean the former gardener I take care of the shrubs she planted. White lilacs, barberry, species roses, forsythia, rhododendron, japanese quince, clematis, rosa rugosa and New Dawn, black currants, three ancient fruit trees, and a beech hedge against the prevalent wind. I mainly renovate them i.e. cutting away dead branches to help them breathe and get air and light.
And I also have cleared space and planted a herb garden, opened up the former rockery, and I am preparing an area to be a wildflower meadow.
Eventually when the weather gets a wee bit more summery we will actually be able to sit outside and enjoy the view of the fells. There are two garden benches and a hammock waiting to be strung up.
I have found that when in duress going outside and being in the outdoors is so healing and makes the situation much less frantic. Serenity creeps in with the distraction of all the life around me, the insects, frogs, bunnies, sheep and lambs, and birds lots of birds.
There is a blue tit nesting in the slate birdhouse near the door.
Mainly I suppose it is a place to be in the present.
To be present to the present. The present being the yarden at present.