My husband Pauls essay on living and dying. Drawing before departing-melanoma and the gardener I find it difficult letting go of my greater world the garden. Eighteen acres of the most sacred earth I know. The fragrance, the taste, the perfume of the waking spring soil, the florals and fruits of summer, the winy fermentation of autumns air, all saved memories. This small world and my 28 year relationship with this intimate, and richly layered garden, Is beyond words... as is the love felt for its creators Bill and Nancy. Entering the garden through the memory of my last working days this fall. Along the Green and White Path, staking Anemone Honorine Jobert her pure whiteness and green spherical disc in beautiful morning light. Standing among a tangle of tonkin and jute, Anemones and bumble bees, I caged the storm tossed stems. Hibiscus Diane standards flank the opposite path and are clothed in white bud. This spark echoed in the sunlit lambs ear along the hedges ribbon of green. Into the garden my imagination flows from the layered memory of time and space embracing the subtle daily and seasonal changes, enchanted and magical ! Flora and fauna dance in their niches of season. All bringing movement, color, texture, fragrance and play to each garden space. Omnipresent fauna creature every nook and cranny, every environment, every season in intertwined wholeness. Winter has begun, snow is in the air, coating the lawns and pathways. The garden is resting and naked its structure and form exposed, flowing landforms anchored by evergreens. Birds fill the air with song and movement in berried drifts hugging steep slopes. Illuminated by the whiteness of the fallen snow the naked woodland seems ghostly to the distant eye. The influence of our heavenly bodies with there constantly changing angles mark this season. Every ray of light be it crepuscular, noctiluscent, nocturnal or diurnal shapes and forms the balance of shadow and light. This mercurial influence creates shifts in color and enhances form and texture. The slightest movement in the canopy, once illuminated brings a flutter of shadow pattern to grounds canvas of snow. Shadow and light weave an enchanted picture beyond all words hopefully capturing the essence of my experience This white two dimensional form with ink pen in hand begins the process of my journey back into the garden of my imagination, the garden that lives in the cycle of the seasons and the garden to be... Paul
Posted on: Sat, 05 Jul 2014 12:00:23 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015