I love Spring - it's my favourite season and for me (and everyone else in the Southern hemisphere) today marks the first day of this glorious season. The suddenly blue sky pulled me out of the house and into my garden; I garden I haven't yet had the chance to explore. And there I discovered that I have a flowering garden.
I think that gardens that come with rental properties are often like a gift with purchase, because we take then, because, well, presents, but then you realise that you don't actually need another hand cream or a ridiculously small shampoo. At the last few rental properties, the 'garden' has consisted of a slab of concrete around a wonky clothes line. My last place actually had some mint growing, but it was almost consumed by weeds and bugs.
When we moved in - during a very bleak winter - we didn't venture out into the garden all that much. But today, with the first reminder of what summer is like, the garden called me out.
The touch of colour is already creeping across the greenery and much to my surprise, downy white flowers are beginning to bloom on the tree outside my room.
Blossoms have always held a special place in my heart - from the blooming, but unproductive apple tree in mum's veggie patch to the trees that lined an otherwise very ugly street. But the most memorable were the blossoms outside my room while I was living in England. Two magnificent blossom trees that sat on the lawn between five university houses, that so clearly told us what time of year it was.
To me, blossoms have become a part of my home - the airy sent that consumes everything, the soft and felling beauty of nature. So bring on Spring I say, bring back summer dresses and flowers and picnics and berries. Someone, send me the sun.
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