28 September 2008


We reach the garden early, in time to sip coffee
and watch the sun appear from behind the mountain.

Silently, wet and dripping, a heavy dew has settled over night,
and, as the sun's rays spear, a magical thing happens.

Little spirals of steam dance from the fig leaves
and disappear.


  1. Every morning when I work I think of you in Grenada now.

    That post below, with the flour sack bedspread...we don't get the cotton flour sacks here anymore...I made a pretty, trendy blouse with one, with the writing bleached completely out, so it's pure white. It's such soft cotton.

  2. Hope you are not working too hard GG.
    We don't get the flour sacks anymore either, my mother-in-law kindly gave us these.

  3. Such a bright lime green it almost burns your eyes.........

    Really nice cool photos.

  4. I always thought of the fig tree as one of the most Majestic trees in the garden. I would stand a few fit away from the tree and try to understand how the leaves in their magac, created the trunk of the tree. My favorite memory as a child, is standing under the leaves of the fig tree to shelter the rain, day-dreaming while the rain hits the leaves.

  5. Lemongrass, I know just what you mean, the more you look the more you see, and your favourite childhood memory is one of my favourite things to do.


thanks for visiting, it is lovely to see you here.

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