Today is a day for tiptoeing back into the sunshine after weeks and weeks and weeks spent within the scuffed walls of the rehearsal hall and the dark, windowless confines of the theatre. The stage brings incredible freedom surrounded by stale air and four thick walls that keep out anything resembling my normal ‘civilian’ life. I’ve just spent five weeks walking in the Elizabethan world of William Shakespeare, shape-shifting between the comedic joy of Mistress Page in Merry Wives of Windsor and the righteous fury of Queen Margaret in Henry VI, Part III and today I’m slipping back into my life in June 2012. Walking and working in my garden brings me back to myself….
My pots are finally filled with flowers, breathing colour to my freshly pressure-washed (by me!) patio.
Bedding plants waiting patiently for their turn to dirty my hands….
My absolute favourite! My purple Goddess. I am not a Gardener, I don’t know the names of most plants and in a strange way that frees me to love them beyond their label.
My One Remaining Poppy (yes, I know her name!)
I love, love, love paths! Especially my secret flagstone path that meanders past my little clover field along the front of the house…..
….and wraps around the side of the house…..
…..until I come to my wildly giant Hosta. I love Hosta’s – they disappear completely in the winter and reappear like magic every late Spring.
Perched at the top of the gravelly steps to the back lawn is one of my son’s soccer balls, a happy left-over from a visit by my niece and nephew.
And always, always, always is Love in dog form – my wee pup Bailey.