Day Three - Early Winter

A blue, mountains day.

An early winter's day.   I arrived at the garden to be greeted by David and Queenie.  She is the black Scottish shadow who is guardian of this garden.  

Soil has been turned.  Weeding is being done.  Green things are growing.

As always I found it bizarre to see a tree in bloom in this quiet season.  An ornamental quince in new blossom.  The few blossoms are vivid pink and  contrast with the deep green of the lawns.

In the distance I could hear the rumble of the coal train, headed west empty or east full.  It's noise is a regular comfort in our lives up here.

There are many terracotta pots.  They could lend the garden a European feel but instead the garden has an Oriental form.  Not necessarily in terms of its planting but in the delicious order, the twisted and clipped trees, the careful placement of plants.

The faded hydrangeas retain a little of their summer colour.  They remind me of what was and what will be again in the seasons of this garden.

Day Two - Late Autumn

Days of rain and wind have meant that it has been impossible to get back to Craignish.  Today I decided to take my chances.  Fortunately the rain held off and the sun shone briefly from time to time, illuminating dying leaves.

The garden has withstood the weather well.  There is a small black scottie dog called Queenie missing though. She is away at the moment. She usually ambles through the garden, a shadow slipping in and out of the shadows cast by tree branches.  

A dry stone wall has been built here.  In it is a peculiar hollow stone, placed there by the builder at David's request.  He found it when he was 12 and bushwalking with his father.  A cherished stone, it now serves as a memorial to David's father, protected by other stones and watched over by tall trees.

Day One - Late Autumn

I went to Craignish with Tricia.  As she showed me through the garden, which is owned by very good friends of hers, I knew that I would be very happy here.

It is not a huge garden, but every corner, every turn in a path, opens up a new vista.  The garden has been carefully planned but is not constrained by that planning.  

I look forward to returning there, taking my time to walk quietly through it and learn its voice.

Once again a garden will take me by the hand and teach me what it wants me to learn.