There is a garden in Liguria, with a stone buddha, and roses, and lavender. From its edge, you can see up and down the valley, to the olive groves carved out of its harsh hillside, and the reed-strewn river that bubbles along the valley floor.
I remember this garden when it was young. Borders had been sketched out, and young plants laid along their edges. Now I am back, those plant are maturing, some of them as tall as me. The great oak at the pool's edge gets bigger and prouder every year, and casts its protective shade across the grass.
The world seems so far away at times like this. Driving up the windy mountain roads, away from the busty, tanned artificiality of Nice, trouble and business give way to something more balanced, more serene. Away from anger, from stress, from confusion… away from all that, it's easier to see that it's just life in all its colour. I've often been asked, 'Where's your anger?' But, you know what? Hopefully, with enough love, there isn't room for it. If you keep to the truth in your own heart, no amount of noise and fuss changes that.
So, like this beautiful hillside garden, I'll spread more branches, grow more colour, and try to welcome much-loved guests whenever they return.
