I always love coming home after time away to see my space afresh. It’s like re-reading a favourite book; you always discover something new, or something that was always there but after time away, can be appreciated with the benefit of a new perspective. This has been the case with my garden.
I arrived home at dusk but even in the dying light everything looked and felt different. The growth was rampant, which is saying something after working in my sister’s wild garden. The formal bones of my garden imposed by the restricted space, were still there, although in just two weeks, had been overwhelmed by Spring growth.Oncidium orchids had burst forth in a cascade of arching yellow flower spikes, the water-lily was in perfect symmetrical bloom, and the deciduous gingers had awoken and were busy dressing up in robes of green. Everywhere I looked growth was the most evident change, closely followed by out-standing new blooms where only buds had been when I left.
The next morning I couldn’t wait to get outside for a closer inspection in the daylight. I was delighted to discover plants I’d forgotten I had were now dressing up for their seasonal party. Others I had planted before I went away with the hope they’d flourish without my input – had done so spectacularly, with no help from me. I was also relieved to find just one casualty and even then not un-salvageable. An irrigation line to a pot had blown and the petunia it contained was looking worse for lack of water. I’m pleased to report it’s now in recovery.
Absence increases my acuity. I see and feel things in an excitingly new, more appreciative way. Travel extends our minds, promotes new ideas and contributes to our evolving identities. The person I was when I left no longer exists.
“No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it’s not the same river and he’s not the same man.”