My job is mobile and I split my time working alternate weeks in Norfolk and Nottinghamshire. I drive down country roads, enjoying rural England through the seasons.


Friday, 24 April 2009

The Secret Garden

Recently I have been revisiting books that were favourites when I was a child. Maybe it's related in some deep subconscious way with my parents moving in with me a few months ago? I'm not sure. I don't think I care really as I've been enjoying the experience. I read a few pages or a chapter each night in those precious 10-15 minutes when I am finally and completely alone, not having to think about, talk to or look after anyone but myself.

Recently I found and bought an old battered copy of The Secret Garden . And I have realised that I don't think I ever did fully read it when I was a child, not cover to cover anyway.

And it's been wonderful - such lovely descriptions of nature, of plants and green things growing and the healing powers of nature, gardening, living in and experiencing the seasons.

This is a bit from Chapter 11 - and it's so true, when you truly live now and in the moment, that moment is for ever and ever.

One of the strange things about living in the world is that it is only now and then one is quite sure one is going to live forever and ever and ever. One knows it sometimes when one gets up at the tender solemn dawn-time and goes out and stands alone and throws one's head far backand looks up and up and watches the pale sky slowly changing and flushing and marvelous unknown things happening until the East almost makes one cry out and one's heart stands still at the strange unchanging majesty of the rising of the sun--which has been happening every morning for thousands and thousands and thousands of years. One knows it then for a moment or so. And one knows it sometimes when one stands by oneself in a wood at sunset and the mysterious deep gold stillness slanting through and under the branches seems to be saying slowly again and again something one cannot quite hear, however much one tries. Then sometimes the immense quiet of the dark blue at night with millions of stars waiting and watching makes one sure; and sometimes a sound of far-off music makes it true; and sometimes a look in some one's eyes.

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