The Naked Gardeners revisited, part II
Continued from yesterday...
The Brits have a thing about walled gardens. Many of them seem to find it hard to imagine the garden I had in Sweden, wall-less and fence-less (but with complementary deer and moose...). Perhaps it is a privacy thing. Perhaps in a country this size, with sixty million people fighting for an inch each of privacy, there is a natural, almost genetic penchant towards net curtains and walled gardens...? This claustrophobic Swede is only now, four and a half years into her Swenglish existence, beginning to come to terms with our garden walls and fences, and only because they are only waist high.
However, in a garden of this majestic size, a wall is actually not only acceptable to me, it is appreciated and applauded. All these doorways and arches in the wall are like spell-binding calls of temptation, and transfixed, I am drawn towards them, with held breath and heart pounding audibly. What lies on the other side? What fairies inhabit the next 'room'?
Throw in a water fall (above) and an oversized cauldron (below), and I am ready to move in!
And while I begín to stir my witch's cauldron, I wish you all a lovely Wednesday!