There are lots of artistic ways to interpret the Gardens, such as through drawing, poetry or photography. Prose is a little rarer, but this story by Roots and Shoots volunteer Allan shows that it’s a great way to describe the feeling of The Hidden Gardens.
Discovering a Hidden World
After journeying through endless blocks of busy buildings, I descend metal stairs into a narrow dark corner. A green door stands, waiting. I enter.
Opening into the stillness of a fresh morning, the white sky expands exponentially around the tranquil scenery, revealing a secluded world waiting to be discovered.
A tall tree stands proud on its pristine lawn. The neat lawn stretches like a green velvet carpet. The surrounding foliage encircles the scene in an organic arena. The busy blocks fade into a distant memory as I wander further into the wild. A path invites me to explore.
The rhythmic crunching of my footsteps on pebbles accents the serene quiet. Meandering along the path, the wilderness begins to reveal itself.
A sudden fluttering resonates in the undergrowth as I enter the private sanctuary. Birds twitter and whistle cheerfully up amongst outstretching branches, while a passing seagull jabs high-pitch staccato into the hidden harmony.
I notice some rustling amongst the blanket of crackling leaves. I slowly approach. I follow the sound and peer through the bushes. A blackbird stands still, watching. I move closer. His gentle eyes look at me without fear, allowing me into his hidden world.
