Yoga, meditation, gardening. They fulfil the same function. Flow, connection with myself, connection with the universe. A free flow of giving and receiving. Being alive; feeling alive in every cell of my being, being alive to nature.
It is one of my favourite sensory pleasures to hold the impossibly soft and tender rose in one hand and snip its bristly stem with the other. The petals are softer than anything I know: peach fuzz, babies’ bottoms, duck down: they are nothing to this rose. The spent flower fits perfectly into my hand. Its petals may suddenly let out a silent ‘oh!‘, let go of their calyx all at once. They drop into my waiting bucket, with a flurry of petal confetti. and glorious rose perfume.
My favourite winter job in the garden is MULCHING. Just the word is delightful. Like squelching, but warmer and snugglier.
How we made the most beautiful compost you ever saw…