A little bit of earth

In The Secret Garden Mary Lennox asks for a "little bit of earth." I think we all need a spot of our own. Our own secret garden. A place where we can give our imagination full rein.

I remember watching my wise, Welsh Granna in her garden. She would sing and hum and it felt enchanted to me. I would hide behind the elephant ears and ferns and she would pretend to lose me to the fairies.

Her daughter, my grandmummy, was also a gardener. There was always a wild riot of color and scent. And I admit I used to eat her roses. I was a wee thing and I cannot explain why. Only perhaps than growing up with these women saying I was a fairy child might have had something to do with it. That and I loved them. Still do. Something about that fragrant tang on my tongue.

My mum, also loves to put her hands in the earth. As an adult, I still thrill to watch her capable hands, dirt under her nails, face alight with a kind of Grace.

And so I try to live up to these women. And yesterday, found myself buying two pots of bright daisies for my mum which I will plant today in her garden while she conducts me as expertly as if she were conducting a symphony. And the music of her garden will continue to soar and heal and make magic. And if we're very lucky, perhaps a fairy or two will come and visit.