We visited a beautiful garden*, which was a picture in the spring sunshine. We had the whole day for ourselves, so we took flasks, camera (him) and knitting (me), and prepared to spend most of the day there.
We wandered slowly, looking at everything, then we sat, drank our hot drinks, and looked some more. Then we split up and I found a bench with a view I particularly liked, and I sat and mediated for a while. There were bees, butterflies and birds, a stream flowed behind me, people came and went, and I was there in that garden in that spot in that moment.
I walked and looked some more, I sat and knitted.
We met, we ate lunch, then wandered some more. Then we split again and I found (another) lovely spot (in the kitchen garden, where else?), and sat and knitted**. And I was again there in that garden in that spot in that moment.
Knitting and garden hose
What a perfect way to spend a day.
I know that we could not have spent a day in this way when our children were young. For many many years the days together without the children and without work were rare as hens’ teeth. But we could (and did) spilt from time to time, to give each other free time and space.
All the photos are Malcolm’s apart from the one with the knitting. Of course.
*The garden is Heale Garden, just north of Salisbury in Wiltshire. They have their own cafe too with delicious home-made soup, freshly made sandwiches, and home-made cake, and mismatched tables and chairs on the lawn . Who could ask for more?
** It’s a cot blanket. For no particular reason other than that I like the colours (knitted from sock wool).
the magic jug 