Sunday 5 June 2016

Oh How The Garden Grows

Oh how the garden grows…


Walking down the track into a dream, the bog cotton waving at me; I stand atop the hill, looking out across the still and silent sea. The bracken is big now, unfurling with all its might – a luminous green that only comes with spring. The leaves of the Aspen are in full power, the bed of self-seeded delights have turned into a jungle of greens to eat, the grapes in their infancy fascinate me and how tall the sweetcorn grows! The Asparagus too, I could watch it stretch, the potatoes, raspberries, salad crops, apple blossom and rhubarb. The kale and the chard, turnips and beets, the strawberries are ready to eat! Fresh herbs from the herb canoe and a sea of sunflowers – I could sit for hours and watch the garden grow, the birds bouncing from branch to branch, the Adders curl in the sun, the tidal ebb and flow and the chickens mischievous charm. The bees come for the borage, as do I. Infinite pickings of nettles and ‘weeds’ from the sea and ground, sorrel is my favourite zesty treat to find on forage.  A gift freely given, food for foods sake. Beauty for beauties sake. I could sit for hours and watch the garden grow. Watch how the light moves across the rocks at the round house, how the rowan leaves turn with the moving sun, how the infant trees made quickly small by the increasingly tall bracken, one day it will be reverse. The willow dome is complete now, a secret to retreat to and look out from within the leaves. The baby apple trees are flowering too and that pine we cut has its use. We sit on the logs around the fire, telling stories united by our mandala. I could sit for hours…