It’s been a tough week, changing seasons it’s sometimes like that.
Hubby’s been ill and I’ve been struggling under the strain. Add in a few work problems and exhaustion and I’ve crumbled a little.
It’s OK. I’m allowed.
Things don’t always have to be perfect. That’s why we have seasons. There’s a beauty in each one. The grey timbre of melancholy in winter, the faded red fire of Autumn, the yellow ease of Summer and the fresh, newly painted by Nature’s deft hand, hope of Spring.
I went out into my garden this morning and snapped some pics to share with you. I love the garden in this little cottage. It’s a true cottage garden with rapscallion weeds and untamed daisies. With fish ponds full of Koi carp and little waterfalls and even creeping Wisteria and blowsy Hibiscus.
There’s palms of course. Sometimes when you sit under their fronds and glimpse a perfect blue arch of sky you can easily imagine that you’re sitting on a Pacific Island somewhere. The vision would be complete if it was only a few degrees warmer.
But we’re getting there. In every sense. The season is changing once more and with the wild wind and the drenching rain comes new life, new experiences and new hope.
I went out into the garden today and snapped Spring’s love letters. The old canes of vine have bloomed overnight and creeping over the verandah beams burst into purple flowers. Delicate petals litter the verandah floor. My Lavender has blossomed too and the Freesias fill the garden with fragrance.
The pool has turned green. There’s really no better sign that Spring is here. I’ll have to race down to the pool shop to get the frighteningly effective ‘bomb’ that will restore its water to translucent blue. But somehow in the lurid green there’s beauty and hope still, especially when the frog croaks through the night.
The sea tides come and go.
A reassuring rhythm.
We had orca in the bay the other day and then dolphins too.
Beauty is all around us. Inspiration is everywhere. And, despite the battles, the storms, the hurt and cold, we are still here too.