The garden is where I watch and think. Some people ask me if I miss my old home. I shake my head, it’s just stuff but I miss my garden. I wonder how the trees have grown, what spots of the paths are covered. What birds are nesting. Are the swallows still allowed in my studio. Are the big black sulphur crested cockatoos screeching and stripping my hakeas. Are the ashes beautiful colours now in autumn.
I have saved a small piece of my garden in this one small sticky geranium.
It was originally in Yvonne Boyds garden at Bundanon. I broke off a small piece and it came home for a while, was potted and re-planted.
Although broken and re-stuck it emerges with a dainty coral coloured petal every now and then. It’s a stolen momento that lives in my new garden. I have snapped pieces and passed them on to other artists in their gardens.
Geraniums have always had a special meaning for me.
My new gift, a book on Sunday Reeds Garden at Heide is a reminder of how much artists and gardens are connected.
Thank you to the secret gardener for inspiring me on a cold autumn day to get out and look at my secret geranium.