A day in the countryhouse

(photo by Anthony Reynolds)

I am sitting at my friends’ garden in Whitchurch. Feels earthy. Feels like home.

I am grateful. For their friendship, for their simplicity, for their truth. I also feel grateful for the gifts of nature the very moment I wake up. My eyes fill with beauty and colours. My mind becomes green and so is my heart. Do you know how a green heart feels like? Open like a flower, big like a tree. A heart full of love.

Everything mingles in a natural way. The purple, yellow and orange flowers, Anna’s blue eyes, the wild blackberries, the music, the clouds that come and go (some of these have rainbow colours), Anthony’s voice, the butterflies, the cats, the wasps and the occasional showers that keep the garden fresh and alive and myself excited. I listen to Cocteau Twins’ “Frou-frou foxes in midsummer fires” and think about the secret life of foxes that Anthony wants to spy (cool idea!)

When it gets cold we get inside. Cooking dinner and enjoying the garden view from the kitchen windows. A real pleasure. Ravi Shankar is live on BBC Radio 3 performing evening ragas. The smell of spices, the taste of wine, the sound of sitar. A small feast.

As the night falls, after some glasses of wine I become lighter and dizzy. I lie in bed and listen to Orson Wells reading Oscar’s Happy Prince. I fall asleep before the tale becomes too unhappy and soon I dream of the beasts of the garden.