A summer in the garden.

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I’ve spent summers in all of the Mediterranean, and however beautiful it is, none of them compared to a summer in my parents’ garden, not even the sea, although, who am I kidding here, the sea, I do miss, but having breakfast in a hotel, lying on a beach or at a pool, next to people draping their labeled belongings around themselves like an Egyptian pharaoh in his tomb, clinging to their bank accounts, their status is on display 24/7, all year, over-symbolized, logomania in extremis, but no heaven lies ahead here, deadly sinners, all of them, it’s easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for logomaniacs to enter the kingdom of God, yes, I’m a Catholic, no thanks, that’s not for me, at least not this year. My Hermès beach towels are off duty, I couldn’t relax anyway, I have to trim something in that garden left to my mother’s devices, planned as an urban jungle, too many trees, too much ivy, too much of everything, lush, overly lush, beautifully lush, hydrangeas emerging from unindentifiable green masses, roses emerge everywhere from ivy, so richly blooming they look like a bouquet, but before I trim something, I’ll look out for some shade, under an apple tree, or the walnut tree, or whatever tree appears inviting…

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2 thoughts on “A summer in the garden.

  1. I cannot think of a lovelier place to spend the summer – it really is an earthly paradise. The pleasures of taking tea and basking in the shade of the walnut tree. You words and photos are as refreshing and delicious as a cool drink on a hot day.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Adore your observations about the be-logoed. Even in the garden….oh! is that a David Austin rose? It does all get so tedious….Jan, your photos of your mother’s garden really convey a sense of how beautiful it must be to just lay there and soak it all in….and wait for the next meal to be prepared. xx

    Liked by 1 person

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