I am sitting in the garden looking at the solitary rose bush that I have. It is an Anniversary Rose. It has been flourishing for the past four years. But for many years before that it stood almost as a single stalk, then something changed and it started to spread. At the moment the new buds are struggling to break through in every area of the bush and this view somehow reminds me of my mother who loved roses and tended them in our gardens every year with such gentle care.
When I used to work a plot at the allotment I was constantly reminded of my father. Both my parents were people of the earth. My father use to farm land in his homeland of Jamaica, he also kept animals and he transferred these skills to the English countryside where his crops and animals flourished for many years. He was always growing something; he even planted his own grapevine and bunches of grapes – albeit small for the first few years – were determined and quickly became established.
I now have several flowers in my garden that come from plants that my father had sown in his last garden. Each year I am reminded of him as they bloom and spread in their indescribable beauty.
When I spend time in nature, whether in the garden, on a forest walk or a beach, I am reminded that nature is almost timeless in its displays. You can be on an isolated beach anywhere and forget which country or century you are living in: the sand, the water and the rocks remain constants.
Whenever I am in the city I can see the trappings of civilisation and they are always dated. In nature there is an enduring sense of connecting to the eternity and people that were before me and touching the eternity that will come after me.
Just looking at this Anniversary Rose bush fills me with memories of different lands, sunsets, beaches and people.