The garden in the spring.

After quite a long, dry season it has been raining all week, quite heavily.  It is wonderful to go into the garden in the morning and see all the plants sprouting up by leaps and bounds and the seedlings appear.  Spring is the most magical season in the year and I am very lucky to live in a climate that has enough rain and enough sun.
My garden is in complete contrast to my house which is minimalist.  The garden can contain all the colours you want and all the drifts of flowers overflowing pathways which would be so annoying inside.  I have things dangling from trees making noises, and crystals and shells in amongst the rockery.
I also place pots and ornaments that I no longer want cluttering up the house, in the garden.
At the very bottom of my garden I have a new arbour built by a friend's husband with (hopefully later in the year) roses either side and opposite, where  I can see it when I am sitting in the arbour, I have placed a wooden sculpture of a meditating man.
It is such a calm and relaxing place to sit and ponder even with the many different plants and flowers and the noises from the busy road below.  (My house is set up quite high).
A garden definitely is an oasis: on weekends my neighbours mow their lawns, power-wash their patios, use drills and other noisy tools, have barbecues, talk loudly on their mobiles but it is as though I am in a bubble and nothing can touch me.
We all have differing uses for our gardens but we are so lucky to have them as many new-built houses have the merest little yard as though in these busy times a garden plot is of no importance.