For a child, a garden is a secret place. It is a place full of amazing colors, sweet scents, and birds singing to greet the day. It is the oak tree that buds each spring, the sign lazy summer days are on the way.
What oak tree would be without a garden swing? A simple board hung by rope at just the right height for the smallest child to perch themselves. Swinging high or just sitting and enjoying the gentle rock as the breeze passes by. Time is neither past nor future in the garden; we seem to master enjoying the moment as a child.
I still walk within my garden every day now that I am grown, looking for that moment where time is just now, a place to experience this moment, to just being here now. It is time to leave the garden and enter the day. As I get older, I return here more often, looking for now, this moment without past or present.