Harriet’s Garden…


“Come see my garden,” she would say, with a twinkle in her eye as if she was offering me the key to her heart. She was. I would learn this, when on a cool, clear evening, I took her up on her invitation.

The garden’s portal was an arched gateway. Flanked by trees and curving flower beds, the garden extended from the house to the alley, an eclectic variety of benches, of stone and wood, were situated throughout the space. Each became its own tiny corner of the world offering a unique vantage point of the surroundings for those pausing to reflect.  Like tiny worlds within worlds.  Near the entrance, a great old tree hung heavy with a gaggle of hatchlings chattering for their next meal. A yearly event, I was told, this particular tree being a favorite nesting place of this latest brood’s parents. And my favorite spot yet, was a small corner nook set aside just for the faeries. I lost myself in faerie whisperings there. I could live here, I thought.

Witnessing such beauty lulled me into a sense of deep peace.  What a gift was hidden just behind the white picket fence of her century old home. And how blessed I felt to have been invited to visit.  It is an evening I will never forget. Honored am I to have known this creative, lovely soul who recently crossed beyond the veil.  I have no doubt she will be tending a magnificent garden wherever she is.  Crossing over myself, when that time comes, feels sweeter to me now, imagining her there.

kat ~ June 2015

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