Wednesday, 24 January 2018
In and out of the garden by Sara Midda
I found the following write up on the Waterstones page and it sums it up well.
The most elegant and subtle of books to give and to have, this title evokes the English garden of Sara Midda's childhood, sowing the imagination with glorious images. Dozens and dozens of illustrations and tender reflections recall the hut in the wood or a topiary maze, a summer day spent podding peas, or a herb patch that yields biblical fragrances. Myriad colours fall upon warm green moss. Painted with Sara Midda's fine brush it is a book of lasting enchantment.
I took the book out yesterday to take a look. The first time since Mum's passing. I found the following piece amongst the pages, she had obviously written after my Father's death. Please forgive any mistakes, I could have changed things but felt that would not be appropriate.
Will I find you.
Slanted shadows stalk the garden, fine mist clings on the air,
Perfumes fill my nostrils, for summer once was there,
Now Autumn spreads its fingers, over plants and garden chair,
In those misty moments I see you walking there.
Little jewelled cobwebs are strung out along the path,
Descending sun a golden ball, empty now the birdie bath.
So still it is now Summers gone, a gap fore Winters call,
Seeds drop down noiselessly, will they flower where they fall?
When once again it's Springtime, youths pleasures on the air,
And will I find in memory guise, my love, you walking there.
My Father spent much of his retirement working in the garden. Mum always knew where to find him.
When he passed she would often say "Where's Jim, Cheryl. I can't find him"
I believe this poem was written during her last months.
I hope she found my Father, she always believed she would :)
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Oh my, what a treasure. Not only the book but especially what your Mum wrote. I feel sure that Mum found your Dad and they are happily together watching over their Dear Family. Hugs...ReplyDelete
It was just a lovely surprise Lisa.Delete
What a lovely poem and how wonderful that you found it. Like Lisa, I think they did indeed find each other and are probably wandering garden paths where it is eternal spring. Precious, Cheryl.ReplyDelete
What a lovely thought Rose, thank you for that.Delete
The illustrations are indeed very prettyReplyDelete
very detailed Simon.Delete
What a truly wonderful book, and this is such a lovely post Cheryl.ReplyDelete
I'm sure your mum and dad are together ...
My good wishes
All the best Jan
Thank you Jan.Delete
I left a comment earlier. I don't know what happened to it.ReplyDelete
I'll try again - I just wanted to say that your mother has a rare and special gift - her way with words. She writes about observing the changing seasons, the cycles of life with a longing in her soul; yet she is accepting of what is.ReplyDelete
Thank you for sharing, Cheryl. I like that she ended her poem with Hope.
Thank You Wendy. What a lovely thing to say.Delete
My Mother loved the changing seasons and was an incurable romantic. She would have loved the fact you understood her.
Have a good weekend.
Goodness, this brought a tear to my eye! What a beautiful book and poem. I hope your parents found each other.xxxReplyDelete
so touching... made me tear up. <3ReplyDelete