A Step Into the Green

The kitchen door stood slightly ajar, letting in the smell of damp grass. I slipped through the narrow gap and stepped onto the weathered wooden porch. Hanging from the low rafter overhead was a thick macramé plant hanger holding a terracotta pot. I stretched my arms upward, grasping the knotted cotton cord. With a slow, steady pull, I swung my legs up and nestled into the woven cradle beneath the pot. Through the trailing green leaves, the entire garden opened out before me.