7 O’Clock Garden + 7 Days of Blogging {Day 4}

Into the night garden…

Just as the sun is setting, candles are lit, with curious birdsong echoing.

Through the secret garden gate, into the wild.

A perfect evening for tales, as a storm teases.

Bubbles fizz, and stories told by my grandmother 30 years ago flutter about.

Tales of wild swans and magic flowers are retold.

Something is changing, something is shifting, something wonderful this way comes.

I can feel it in the underlying cool tinge in the air, and in the way the leaves rustle their secret language.

Another season, not too far away.

I grew up on endless fairy tales, some fantastical and others rather spooky.

I relished in them, I loved how my knees would knock under the table and my skin would shiver when my grandma would tell her stories.

Some because they were just so amazing, and others because they were downright terrifying.

I suppose that is why I have a fairy tale sensibility.

It was engrained quite early and then stayed with me always.

And so, as I sit under canopy of trees, which I arrived at by meandering through the very tall garden, I am delighted beyond compare with this moment in time.

Apples are ready, pumpkins are starting to be picked.

The roses have emerged from their summer slumber.

Why do I feel so young and free in my heart still?

Excited about seasons and what is to come.

Do you feel the same way?

I think about hiding up in my cottage, about crocheting all night, and shall I tell you?

I have been dreaming about another little being coming into my life (fur of course).

The whole thing could make me cry, and I don’t want to mess up the feeling.

I’ll tell you the story about how my heart might be ready tomorrow.

And some curious things that have happened regarding that.

But for now, we are in the hidden woods…

So hidden, you almost can not believe that they even exist.

Give me soil and a shovel, some seeds and a dream – 

And I shall try with all my might to create some sort of magic.

It’s actually not really a try feeling that comes over me, but more –

I am compelled outside of my own control.

I hope that if I live a very long time, that I will have the gusto to continue gardening into my 90’s like my paternal grandmother did.

I think about these things as I type to you from my garden, right in this spot.

The cardinals swooping in, wondering why I am in their garden.

Out of nowhere a big cloud is forming above me, laden with little sparks of lightning glimmering like fireworks.

There is the most glorious breeze whipping around, teasing my candles.

I can hear thunder as the last glimmer of light disappears behind a violet cloud.

What is this enchantment that calls my name?

That breaths the most wonderful feeling into my soul?

I can’t describe it, perhaps you feel it too.

A dreamy feeling that I can escape within.

Where pumpkins and fairy tales roam.

Where I am the me-est me.

The truest I can be.

Where I am always that girl with a dream.

Where the night garden has brought me, don’t miss this moment Vanessa, it whispers in my ear.

Be here it says, and so I stay.

A gust of wind blows out some of my candles.

I look up, as a few light rain drops fall upon my face.

And all I can really say to them is, Thank you.

When I was around 19 years old I had this profound moment, where I all of a sudden knew myself so well.

I understood my path and my journey to come, and I entered it willingly and openly.

I let go of some things, and embraced others.

I created a space deep in my thoughts, where I could always come back to me if I lost my way.

It is the paths under trees, the books by candle light, the garden growing –

These sort of things bring me to that place.

That place that I felt that one day, all those years ago.

It’s different, but the same.

I am still me, but I have greater wisdom that grows with each passing year.

Of course, I don’t know a lot.

When you are younger you think you know everything, and as you get older your realize, you don’t know so much.

And it is comforting and okay, and you let go.

But I do feel that perhaps these fairy tale moments, like being in the night garden, are just like children pretending.

Playing out in the back of their grand parents’ house.

Down the garden path and through the stream.

And maybe that, that is what keeps it all alive.

Maybe the map back to yourself is always down those paths of dreams.

I think, yes, it must be.

 

And then, poof…

The candles are out and it is time for me to go.

But at least, now I know.

 

Until tomorrow…

See you then, xoxo

 

Love, Vanessa

 

 

ps: I am here a bit late today because I spent all day cooking for Mister Lovee and his childhood friend who came to visit.

I hope they enjoyed it <3