wild gardening

My garden is a wild one. Not exciting or thrilling. Just overgrown.
I mostly let nature have her way with things. I toss seeds into the wind and hope they'll take. I pull weeds only to watch them return with abandon.
This year I seem to be getting ahead of the Butcher's Broom, a strawlike weed was used in mattresses long ago. Its tiny burr like seeds are impossible to get off clothes and scatter everywhere, not so much choking out other blooms, but hiding them. Pulling it becomes an instant visual reward, revealing miniscule miracles of nature.
Yesterday I was treated to a pitter patter scatter of tiny seeds from a beautiful little wildflower/weed I seem only to have noticed for the first time this year (but will certainly see more of next year.). The sound was delightful: delicate and whimsical, like the tiny blooms that produced them.
My garden will never be a neat cultivated one. But as my partner says when I get anxious filling out forms, "You're not a formal, Riva. You're a casual."
May your day be filled with the Magic Medicine of delightful surprises hiding under the weeds of life.