Welcome again to the little garden. Autumn has arrived, bringing the great harvesting of summer’s abundance, before the gentle time of falling and fading as the earth prepares to rest and recharge through the dark months.

The garden still has much to offer at this time of the year; colours intensify, offering a shock of late summer splendour against a backdrop of grey sky.

Little creatures dart from flower to flower, hunting and competing for the ever decreasing supply of sustenance.

The morning and evening air is colder now, though the days are still beautifully mild.

Enjoy the words of mediaeval Persian poet Jamaladin Rumi, who had much to say about gardens.

‘Beauty surrounds us, but usually we have to be walking in a garden to know it.‘

‘Beauty is the garden scent of roses, murmuring water flowing gently. Can words describe the indescribable?

‘My heart rushes into the garden, joyfully tasting all the delights. But reason frowns, disapproving.’

‘Raise your words, not your voice. It is rain that grows flowers, not thunder.’

‘Be crumbled, so wild flowers come up where you are. You have been stony for too many years. Try something different.’

”True beauty is a ray that springs from the the sacred depths of the soul, and illuminates the body, just as life springs from the kernel of a stone and gives colour and scent to a flower.’

‘No more words. In the name of this place we drink in with our breathing, stay quiet like a flower, so the night birds will start singing.’

‘Every tree and plant in the meadow seem to be dancing, those which average eyes would see as fixed and still.’

Thank you for reading.