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There is a shady corner in the back of my garden. I soon adapted it as my Silent Garden, my Garden of Prayers.
Here I can walk in the mornings, in the nights, during the day. Together with the Creator of All Things. Together with The One Who Listen.
The sun is shining warm and bright. I've found a place in the shadow where I sit with my travel book, Freya Stark's memories from her childhood. Often the book rests in my lap. The beauty of a Nordic summer garden, overgrown with roses, flowers and weeds, bees, flies and butterflies, fragrances in the air. I breath it all in.
Reflections of the sun is found in every flower.
It might be described as weedy wilderness. I describe it as charm. And I love it.
No need to weed yet.
The most colourful time in the garden. My main peonies are blooming.
In a few weeks the roses will be blooming and the hill will be filled with colours and fragrance.
A new bed is patiently waiting for a new rose and a couple of peonies to be planted.
Roses, strawberries and thyme. Colours, fragrance, beauty and sweet taste planted together.
Then the most essential. Water and love. Love and water. Always.
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