I have not written in months. Or taken photos of gardens. Or looked around me much. I’ve recently lost my sister, my only sister, to a 10 month battle with brain cancer. I was tight by her side these last months as she faded away with this disease. Today is one of those days when I am close to ashamed by my inability to stem my grief. I know, I know- that’s wrong-headed. But somehow at this mature stage of life, I believe I am to think of this passage as the normal journey of life, be accepting and at peace with it all. Just not there yet and feel such a void in her absence.
But I sat on my porch this afternoon, reading and watching the light as the dark clouds rolled in for the expected rain coming our way. And I know I sit in a place of beauty and peace and the air is almost palpable with the sound of the bees in the Lavender ‘Grosso’ and Hebe ‘Blue Mist’ and the hummingbirds swooping through the Phygelius and the tide making its way to shore. I picked up an old camera for a moment.
I can’t capture the heady perfume of my Cassablanca Lillies or Jasmine. My old camera pales the rich tones of Agapanthus ‘Storm Cloud’ or misses the rhythmic curved beds filled with charteuses of Leycestria ‘Golden Lanterns’, Acer shirwasanum ‘Aureum’ and the chocolate tones of Sambucus. But you should be here. This place has the ability to heal even me.
