Garden

  • The Beauty of Motherhood: Our New White Rose

    She is four-years-old, and knows only sunshine. Even when it rains, the sun soon returns for her, and I breathe her in. Like a drug delivering a pure dose of light to every vein. A few moments ago, her sunshine… Continue reading

  • Truth

    I am drinking night-time tea, writing, as if to write to a lover of feelings yet to be spoken. I’ve been in the garden today. I sometimes wish my Nan was still alive so I could ask her: ‘Is this… Continue reading

  • Withering

    A rose. Think of it. How like a rose we are. Beginning as seed, gently, a bud. How we open, slowly, never seeing our petals born; never guessing when, at last, the last will fall. And when we wither, wrinkle… Continue reading

  • Little Koala Arms

    Such adorable little roots. And no one is more surprised than I am that my plant journey has taken me this way. It was just the way of the wind and so I flew there, in a great big gust… Continue reading

  • My Garden Home

    If light though the trees is your wish, it is my wish, too. If a meadow awash with eerie shadow calls you, I am gone. Already beyond the boxwoods and sweet peas of my garden, home. Day 24. Somewhere over… Continue reading

  • Home On The Wind

    And today I built a garden. I toiled and sweated, pebble by piece. And today I met my soul again, today I knew my home. How blissful to find home on the wind. How dear to follow the heart where… Continue reading

  • The End Of The Day

    I gave my soul to the garden. I gave her my heart, I gave her my dreams. And now, I am weary. So weary, I am nothing more than this. But how beautiful it feels to have come. To have… Continue reading

  • Giving Back

    What did I actually do for others, apart from give them my love? What did I do to help lift their burdens, to help them maximise their true life potential by easing (or helping to expand) life for them in… Continue reading

  • A Story

    It smells like a roast but it feels like a story of love, of a garden, and of home. Continue reading

  • Flight

    Her flight was sweet. And every bit as magical as the hummingbird sipping honeysuckle beside her. Continue reading