22 Aug 2013
Three steps down from our back deck is a higgledy piggledy garden. Far from my lofty ideals of raised beds with golden blankets of straw this one is all overgrown and sprawling. Tucked beneath parsley plants are tarnished spoons long forgotten but discovered from time to time like gilded treasures. There is one lone cork mushroom placed just so to lure passing fairies to set up home here amidst the basil flowers and thyme. The clay versions have since returned to the earth. And in the far corner is a ball of silvery green leaves and misty lilac flowers. Perhaps these snips will imbue an afternoon tea treat with a delicate scent and flavour. Or maybe a little eye pillow in a luminous silk filled with dried and crumpled blooms to soothe overwrought babies and weary Mummas. But for now they can join the stoneware, the banksia men and faded yet still adored gifts from dear friends. They can adorn my kitchen shelf with rustic loveliness and remind me daily of the beauty of nature.