Wednesday 24 January 2018

In and out of the garden by Sara Midda

 My Mother gave me this book before she passed away.    It was given to her by a friend in 1983.   It is something I will always treasure, Mum and I often talked about the beautiful illustrations.
 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 :)


  1. 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...

  2. 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.

    1. What a lovely thought Rose, thank you for that.

  3. The illustrations are indeed very pretty

  4. What a truly wonderful book, and this is such a lovely post Cheryl.
    I'm sure your mum and dad are together ...

    My good wishes

    All the best Jan

  5. I left a comment earlier. I don't know what happened to it.

  6. 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.

    Thank you for sharing, Cheryl. I like that she ended her poem with Hope.

    1. Thank You Wendy. What a lovely thing to say.
      My Mother loved the changing seasons and was an incurable romantic. She would have loved the fact you understood her.

      Have a good weekend.

  7. Goodness, this brought a tear to my eye! What a beautiful book and poem. I hope your parents found each

  8. so touching... made me tear up. <3