22 results for 'garden'
The weather is a safe topic, a halfway house between having a conversation and not, allowing us to dip a careful toe into the water without over committing and leaving us plenty of room to manoeuvre and back pedal, should the need arise.
Take something as inoffensive as a garden bench. You would think that any self- respecting person in need of a seat would have no issue in taking up residence. But make one side of that bench occupied, and your average Brit will quickly cast about their eyes looking for alternative seating for fear of having to enter into a... (more)
They sit in the kitchen – Mr and Mrs L – overlooking a backyard of woodpiles, wheelbarrows and tussocks of native grass. It’s early autumn. The pungent scent of the last of a rambling Chinese jasmine wafts across the yard and mingles with the smell of last night’s rain. The weekend menagerie headcount is underway over fruit toast and espresso.
Being Saturday, it’ll be hours before Little L, now 19 years old, emerges to join the human race. Inheriting Mrs L's good looks, he’s prone to late nights and a string of girlfriends.
At the rear of the yard the chickenhouse sits under giant... (more)
“And so, for Your faithful love from the very beginning, before I even knew and realized you were taking care of me, I commit my life to you now, for always!”
Yes, talking to Him felt so natural and comfortable, because I knew He listened without judgment; he listened with the heart and patience of a father. And when He left my garden, it was as if He’d never gone, as if He’d always been there. The imprint of His Glory and Holiness would be enough to fill and last me the rest of my lifetime.
We dream a life to be; we live to dream that life! (vka)(more)
...than I am. That’s where I shall dwell. If you look outside my window, bleakness would wound your pupils and frostbite would bring your soul to a standstill; paralyze your thoughts.
The barren landscape of the North and the West. Hidden in the open for everyone to see, the barren garden— naked and silent… the only lullaby the howling winds of the dark long nights.
And I need to be surrounded by the subtle mysterious power of plants; surrounded by the never ceasing delight of warmth and Nature and the color green innate to the sunny June days.
June—the very... (more)
A band of strong thunderstorms blew through our valley yesterday evening. Wind... wind is a mystery to me. Wind whips things around and slashes on trees and roofs and things, and you get blown around like an autumn leaf...
I find strong winds unnerving; yet, there is something powerful and mysterious and exhilarating in their nature that pulls me to it... I harbor the spirit of the storm chaser in me—riding the air in my long skirts, dancing atop swirling clouds as if in a ballroom...
Child-like delightfully jumping up and down. Ridiculous. Laughing my lungs out; as if some invisible... (more)
The wind is tossing the lilacs
This is May... this is the month of enchantment
...and thus, from my gardens, come my stories... come the color bursts of tiny stars-like flowers; the exotic and strange fragrances wafting in the early morning air. It come, too, the hypnotic effect of arching stems swaying in the wind; the mysterious singing of the trees as gentle breezes rattle their leaves; and too, the intriguing housing complexes, underground roads and passages of all the species of miniature creatures who dwell in it...
.... and there's God in the midst of it all, and... (more)
...reds and bright yellows. My little world comes alight and alive… and me too! The crow's feet at the corners of my eyes seem less noticeable, and my pale winter skin acquires a renewed youthful bloom—I acquire new eyes that let me see life in a renewed light; that’s what it is. Like the garden itself, my soul comes to life again. The rampant energy of spring flaming inside. And I so love it!
Watching this little garden of mine grow is like taking a trip to a different place and time and coming back with a renewed spirit. Are you this crazy in love with your garden? A garden... (more)
It’s been cloudy for the last few days with a steady on-and-off drizzle that have kept things watered down, and the garden is already looking wonderful. Rose bushes are starting to put forth their first leaves—green and supple, reminding me that soon my little world will be perfumed by lovely roses. What else can one ask for?
I am content; like the trees rooted in this garden I so love; and I have been busy painting all my garden statues and fountains. The sound of tickling water has started to serenade my mornings again and the Western Tanager has returned home. Soon I will be... (more)
Does it happen to you sometimes? I mean, sleep would not come easily, and you turn and turn in your bed—your mind full of ideas and projects you want to see accomplished; all the while knowing that outside stars are twinkling and a cresting silvery moon is smiling down at the garden…
Then all of a sudden you feel all alive inside you; a surge of enthusiasm rushing through your veins and you get up consciously knowing exactly where you’re headed to…
Ah yes, the quiet garden waits bathed in moon dust. Guided by the light of the solar-powered footpath lamps I walk by the sleeping... (more)
Rain… rain is soothing; rainy days are a restful stop for the soul. And thus, it has been raining here all day today, and the early morning is wrapped in a gray mist that seems to be traveling the garden’s floor in some type of mystical waves; like sleepy phantoms.
And yesterday, in the garden, the air snapped with anticipation as magic evolved in the form of gentle flakes of snow. Like an unexpected apparition—snow; out of the bosom of the air it came, silent, and soft, and slow. Big fluffy flakes danced and meandered about the garden in the form of tiny delicate clouds; like... (more)