The wild wind roughed through the trees, while I was picking the place for the spring bulbs. The Garden carouselled in cosy light with the blackbirds skipping and marching on the leaves left behind from last autumn. The beauty of being home struck me and made me realised this was the first day of my life what I spent here without being in labour with a university project. I was free.
I found some old seeds I got from Italy on one of my travels, somewhere near Venice. I dig some of the front garden, sown the seeds and planted the bulbs I got from Columbia Road flower market. Last night when I got home in the dark, I could see some daffodils and hyacinths in full flower. My heart leaped. I planted them before I went back to London at the end of last September. I couldn’t fully enjoy gardening then. I had Monsieur Thesis on my back. This time I spent the whole afternoon embracing the garden observing every single seedlings and the giant tulip tree with all its white flowers. I’ve always felt The House with The Garden was a blessing.
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