Sunil I like to think that all parts of my garden give wonderfully amazing experiences, but I know that’s not true. However there is one particular time and one particular place where it becomes magic and a little glimpse of heaven is briefly revealed. Let me help you visit that time and place.
This is the place; in this picture you are there, stood on one of the tree rounds underneath the flowering cherry, looking back at the garden. One of its lower branches is brushing your head. It’s a late Spring evening and it’s finally warm. A chorus of birds are twittering, chirping, singing and flapping in trees all around. In the air, insects lazily fly by and bees buzz busily around the ornamental currant flowers, getting in the last of the nectar. Invisible tendrils of sweet heady fragrance from the wisteria come and go as you breathe. The garden is in dappled shade from the setting sun, brighter patches appearing and disappearing with the whim of the leaves.
The moment is close; look down and see the soil, grass and plants decorated in the pink of countless scattered flower petals, you’ve even managed to pick some up on your shoes. Look up to see the countless blossom flowers so heavy and thick that only a few small glimpses of the blue sky beyond can be seen.
This is the time; the bamboo leaves rustle, the white spirea shines and a sudden playful gust of wind rushes across the tree tops. Then it happens; the cherry branches bow and lilt and pink blossom begins to fall around you like a gentle rain, as confetti in the wind. That is the perfect moment, just there. The sum of it all lasts barely a minute, but it’s indescribably beautiful and utterly moving.
As quickly as it came, it’s over. The breeze dies down, the birds quieten for the night, the sun sets and the evening cools as the light fades. You can go out again every evening while the blossom is out but it won’t repeat, there will always be something missing. Instead, you’ll have to wait for a whole year, until everything is just right for that perfect moment to come again.
This has happened just once a year, for the last few years and as I finish this post, I have another whole year (minus a few weeks) to wait again for the next time. Meanwhile, memories of this year’s replay in my head, sending shivers down my spine as I recall the point when the garden became an eye wateringly beautiful paradise, for just a moment.
8 comments
Beautifully written, very evocative. Cherry, plum, crabapple – all have ethereally beautiful blooms that last just a few days, then fall to the ground and shortly disappear.As you write they provide some of those brief moments that you look back on and forward to.
Hi Jason, thanks that is very true. I wonder what other “moments” are there, waiting to be chanced upon?
Moments like these are truly magical. Your writing helped me share it.
Hi Alistair, words just can’t do it justice, but I tried, I still get shivers down my spine thinking about it.
Magic moments like this are well worth waiting for. I must admit that part of what got me started blogging was wanting to share such perfect garden moments. Thanks for sharing yours.
Hi Jean, I’m happy you could share in my experience. There are a few other “moments” at other times of year but none compare to this one.
Wonderful post! It does seem as if magic sometimes happens in our gardens when everything is aligned just right. I think it’s their brevity that makes them more special.
Hi Tammy, thanks – it’s their brevity that also makes them frustrating when it’s over, but then it just wouldn’t be the same if I could go out any evening and get a “magic moment” each time I stood on the particular tree round, like some kind of large button that makes the garden perfect when pressed – though that would make gardening much easier.