The Winter Garden

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I wander through my garden in the misty sprays of rain. Summer and Autumn’s waste is decomposing into the following season’s harvests. This brings a glow within me.

For a moment, I am not aware of the wet chill that caresses my cheek or the droplets of moisture that cling to my now frizzy hair. I am in awe of Nature’s work, her constant industrious endeavours in the machinations of the season’s cycles.

There is a peace here, a sanctuary away from the battles and pressures of my life.  I draw in a deep breath, hoping that these feelings of peace, contentment and reverence remain with me, invigorating my soul. I am her work, part of the cycle, forever linked in the larger scheme of things.

In that fleeting moment I remember hearing a poignant statement a scientist once made. It was both enlightening and mystifying at the same time. It highlighted our uniqueness, but how much we are so linked to each other and to everything.

“If you look at your hands you will be amazed to know that they are made out of star dust. But what is even more amazing about this is that the left hand may be made out of the dust of a different star to that of the right hand.”

Is this link the ‘connecting essence’ I am conscious of when I am in awe of Nature’s work?

 

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