Morning glory


Mornings used to be a little bit gruesome. My mind would be churning away with work, it was most likely that I wouldn't have had enough zzzzzs which meant I'd oversleep a bit, then it would be one big rush, all guns blazing to get out of the door and drive to work. I was a 9.05 girl. Yes one of those. Brekkie would be al desko and something grabbed, it was normal for most of us. These days, these happy freelance days, it's rare that I'm overtired, I don't really worry too much about my work being my own boss, but no matter what my circumstances, I don't think I'll ever truly be a morning person, but I'm working on it.

I'm still trying to get it right and this is where my garden helps me and steps up to the plate. If I'm very honest with myself, I actually miss a little of that manic, blood pumping, shouty, sweary (I'm a morning delight) rush. I used to feel important, weirdly productive - I was needed somewhere. I'd told myself that to make it OK, or else why on earth was I doing this to myself. I used to dream of relaxing mornings like the ones I have now - for years and years.

And now, I have to battle with the temptation to not bring my breakfast back into my bed, or at least save that treat to the weekend as it is wickedly indulgent. On week days I can hear the TV calling me; 'Just a quick 20 min show' which can if I 'm not careful turn into two and before I know it, half the morning is gone, there are crumbs in the bed and I haven't had a shower yet, what will the postman think.

One surprise is that these days I actually wake much earlier, because I'm not burdened with ridiculous work stress, I sleep well. I used to think my insomnia was incurable, until this year of being. So I pop on my dressing gown bought on a memorable holiday to Thailand. It's midnight blue, deep, dark silk with peacocks in vivid colours and exotic plants. It is exuberant and just beautiful. The very act of putting it on makes me smile a bit.

Then it's a cup of tea in my giant black jungle mug, which I picked up, just of Valhalla Street in Stockholm. I'm one of those people that has memorable plates and bowls too, quite an eclectic mix, but each one chosen because I loved it or a thoughtful gift from someone I love. I'm transported to all sorts of places and people by just using them.

But some mornings even these beautiful things can't quite lift my mood, often if I'm a bit ill or concerned about something, so I make myself walk out of my back door into whatever weather the garden wants to give me. Some days there are accompaniments like the umbrella chosen by my nephews (it's pink and girly and covered in cherry blossom), massive jumper, woolly hat, shades on a good day.

I walk past my little herbs in pots area, stroking and squeezing a bit of lavender and popping it in my pocket or in my hair and that glorious smell makes me pause and thank the universe. Because now, on good days the morning is one of my joys and a treasured gift. I see the dapple morning light filter through the trees, picking out sparkling bits of silver dew. The resident pigeons welcome me with a fly past and if I'm lucky a cheery coo.

Then I reach the top step of the patio and look at the finest and most intricate spider web suspended in the ether and it makes me feel part of this world, I'm just another living part of it. And we are all OK so far today. We are present.

A little further down and the smell of squished and squashed tiny damsons fills my head, it's strong, acidic and I don't really like it but it reminds me of the seasons. I often dodge wasps that are having their breakfast, all of us doing the same.

I reach the funny little mid-way concrete bit where my statue of Buddha is, I got him in Seaford near Newhaven with my parents in Sussex. Did you know Ho Chi Minh used to work the Newhaven to Dieppe ferry? It's true! Google it. So I've named him thus. I say good morning and try and do one of those yoga deep breaths I practise and think of something nice. My statue is surrounded by mini acers in pots. They were the boyfriends idea and it was a good one. Light dances around them beautifully and the many shades of warm, rich loveliness live within.

Now I'm at the veggie patch - I've made my garden sound enormous, It isn't, it takes a minute to walk down but still I do and notice all these things, isn't that glorious.

Behind the veggie patch lies my secret bench, you can't really see it because its hidden behind some tall borlotti bean plants and some bold soldier corn standing to attention. It's the sunniest part of the garden and this is where my day begins. In early summer the lilac down here is intoxicating, at this moment I can see a few blackberries hidden away and I'm planning recipes looking at the goodies before me.

And then I hear the tinkle tankle of little bells and my guys, Skye B and Ziggy, my little black panthers come running full pelt towards me and their cuddles and purrs set me up for the day. The three of us take all this in, in the time it takes me to eat and drink. We've had a nice moment, thanks to the garden. Now the day proper can begin.

It is a pleasure and it brings my prone to excitement brain some calm. Is this mindfulness, green therapy? I don't know but I long for these days. I don't quite feel the same on a Netflix morning.




Comments

  1. Very cool. And what a lovely way to start a day being Zen in the garden with your little panthers.

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