11 May 2018

Spring morphed into a bit of summer, there is the beginning of a drought and basically, my mood is all over the place, incl. a couple of door banging episodes and frustrated shouts of anger to the world at large.
Some days I have to dig quite deeply to find my hidden store of tranquility. But, there it is still, surprise, surprise, once I have exhausted the latest wave of fury and self pity.

My grandmother has been in my dreams, also my mother and the war and I am attempting to sort it into shape and words. But, difficult.

For the time being, there is the garden. I play no part in this, I just watch. And eat.










9 comments:

Ms. Moon said...

Lettuce does not usually entice me but that picture of yours makes me want to run and get the vinegar and olive oil because that is all it needs.

37paddington said...

Such a beautiful garden. Yes, watch, eat, dream. And then come here and say hello. Wishing you more tranquility, even if you have to rail at the fates to get there. Love.

JO said...

Thank goodness (or any god that does it for you) for the respite of your garden,

Colette said...

Thank you for these beautiful pictures. I hope your dreams will culminate in a post because I am so curious.

am said...

So many layers of experience, Sabine. Always. Along with the garden flowers, I loved seeing the green and white variegated plant once again after seeing a group of them in the garden photographed by 37paddington in New York (at least I think they are the same plant).

Just came across this quote by Dante Alighieri:

Three things remain with us from paradise: stars, flowers and children.

Sending love.

Anonymous said...

Your garden is a beautiful balance to all those things that make us shout and slam doors. We are not as far along into spring here as you are there. Soon...very soon.

My life so far said...

I love hostas. The photos are lovely. My garden is slowly waking up.

Elizabeth said...

I'm sorry to hear of hour frustration, pain -- all of it. I think shouting and slamming doors sounds healthy. I myself periodically think of being on a ship that is sinking while I play a tiny violin.

Roderick Robinson said...

Don't downplay, or even dismiss, fury. It's evidence of disposable energy. All that's needed is a little re-direction and lo! you're Manet (or is it Monet?) in his garden. On the edge of impressing others.

I see I'm second in the queue here, that Elizabeth got there first. Reflect on her adjective "tiny". Whence did it come? It's not at all obvious.