My Garden ~ a Kiwi's take on life

Life is a lot like a garden

Cyclamen growing on ancient steps – if only the flowers could speak

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Cyclamen miniatureThe miniature cyclamen growing in my garden reminds me of our wonderful trip on Christmas Eve (2010) to Umm Qais near Jordan’s borders with Israel and Syria. This amazing city was one of a decapolis – ten Roman cities. From there we had fantastic views of the Gallilee, the Golan Heights and the Yarmouk Gorge.

I saw miniature cyclamen growing on ancient steps and stonework. We took in the incredible silence, the deep sense of world events played out here over time in ways that have shaped our modern lives.

IMG_0176Did the people who lived in this ancient city grow and enjoy cyclamens for pleasure as I do? If only the flowers and stones could speak.

IMG_0174

Author: Jenny

My garden is where I lose myself, or as Himself likes to tell others, I lose either my coffee mug or wine glass. Well at least I put them on a gatepost so they are easily found. As I see it, we are here on this place to respect and to preserve nature, not to develop the land. I love how the totara trees stand in silent witness to our human activity. They keep me honest. I love to wander along the stream bank. I like being able to grow fruit and vegetables. I enjoy green open space. My son challenged me to write a blog using my garden diaries to start. Writing a blog is quite different to my diary scribblings. It is for a different audience. In every post, I have to make a conscious effort to get free of an academic style of writing. I write about things I know and do in my everyday life. I am not a photographer but the images I use are taken by me. I believe this adds veracity to my voice in each post. Learning to setup and to manage a blog has been a major effort and remains a work in progress. Who knows where this will lead. Himself and I thought we had retired, about to define this older phase of our life together. But family commitments continue. As it happens, I share this place with Himself, son and grandsons and living creatures who live charmed existences. I watch on as they serve as actors weaving their ways across the stage of daily life. Shakespeare wrote in As You Like It: All the world’s a stage, And all the men and women merely players; They have their exits and their entrances; Always, there's something to write about life lived as I know it.

One thought on “Cyclamen growing on ancient steps – if only the flowers could speak

  1. Hi Jenny,
    Please could I make contact with you re your late father, was he a POW? If so he was with my late uncle Ted. I have letters Ken sent to my late mother in the 1980’s. My ph number is 06 8441584
    Kind regards
    Pauline

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