Situated around the corner on the southern edge of the land where the dandelions grow, the secret garden awaits. Its uneven walkway wears like a pair of well worn sneakers. Flowers and ground cover meander aimlessly in search of fertile soil to sow the seeds of their offspring. Each season brings a bright splash of color. Red, yellow, blue and white blossoms fresh off the color wheel share welcoming duties, each in its predestined time.
The secret garden does not belong to me; except when my neighbors are off on an adventure and then it is mine. Sometimes camera and tripod in tow I photograph whichever fresh face is in season; but more often than not I find myself sitting cross legged on the pavers inhaling the calm.
Thoughts are prone to wander here. Ideas are hatched. Memories are polished. Dreams are let out their cages to fly free and untethered. The minutes pass quickly and all to soon it is time to go. The dreams, the ideas and the memories are carefully wrapped in tissue paper and tucked safely away before moving on.
If you come to visit I'll take you there. But don't tell Steve and Marcia, it will be our little secret.
1 comment:
Wonderful words. Wonderful images. Just wonderful!
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