The fourteenth day

As I was talking to the garden's owner this morning I was slightly distracted by the cheeping of the tiny birds I had been missing for a number of weeks. They were back, darting amongst the camellias, elusive as ever.

There is a powerful sense in the garden this week that it is gathering its strength. Although it is not completely quiet - birds singing, Tiny barking - there is a pervasive atmosphere of trees and plants breathing steadily in and out.

There are magical preparations underway, deep within the earth.

The thirteenth day

I went to the garden on impulse today. The sky was too blue, the air too clear to resist. I noticed again the absence of birdsong there. I could hear dogs barking and the quiet murmur of the garden's owner and his helper, the occasional burst of laughter.

I moved even more slowly than usual around the garden. I didn't think about too much.

I did wonder whether there is a more beautiful name for a flower than "Winter Rose."

I wondered too at the delicate loveliness of a pure white feather caught in a branch, fluttering.

The twelfth day

Today in the garden my attention was caught by the little things.
The leaf, the fern frond, the bark.
Drops of water on the tiniest leaves.
The bud, the green shoot.
The faintest, faintest perfume.
The delicate scrawl of a spider web.
The tracery of branch shadows on the trunk of a tree.
Palest of pink blossoms.

The garden owner and I talked of how I chose what to be photographed.

"The garden tells me what to do," I said.

The eleventh day

I was in a hurry this morning. I thought I would race around the garden, take a few photos and get home as quickly as possible. When I got there though my footsteps slowed, my breath slowed. I watched a sprinkler spin and spin and slow, drops of water sparkling on ferns.

The garden's owner came to greet me and we wondered quietly as to why flowers and shrubs were blooming early. He reassured me that the geraniums had merely been cut back in order to save them from frost. Snow may come tomorrow.

A cockatoo performed acrobatics high up in the trees. It made me smile.