Mid-May, at 6 am Looking out onto the garden; which in reality, is so modest in proportion, but spans acres when heart, mind, and imagination are freed. Good vibes visit the subliminal as brightness adorns another day.
Fantasy; a grass pathway, a mile or more long; a wide lawn narrows as distance forms perspective, welcoming sunrise a carpet of green.
Far in the distance, forming a landscape of beauty and limitless imagination, distant trees; a tint of green as leaves spread across their awaiting branches, viewing the sight from a garden far away, unifying imagination and fantasy.
Myriad colors caress the eyes. Trees, once small and modest, enclose the garden in a screen of serenity and stillness, interrupted only by joyous birdsong. Naturally led by a resident blackbird.
Wood pigeons, perching on top of pendulous willows exchanging cooing; always the same formula.
Gradually, distant scenes of majesty withdraw as a curtain of Springtime leaves closes upon the distant vista, thus focusing heart and soul upon a modest garden, yet bursting with color.
Forget-me-nots and bluebells having replaced daffodils; glorious apple and quince blossom, lilac, climbing yellow rosebuds, wisteria, and more, draped across walls.
Perhaps a rather English cup of tea, scones, butter, ‘clotted cream’ and strawberry jam.
Heaven on earth. An English garden however small caresses the heart.
The Divine Breadcrumb visits the consciousness indeed.