I walked through the busy garden breathing in, it, deeply.
And I picked a double-handful of plump, bright green chilies.
Also a gem squash, and a bleeding mouthful of young-berries.
Then I poured a porcelain-white bowl of steaming green tea.
Then, searching for my centre, I sat in my single, old and faded deck chair (this is not my season for loving, it will come again) and met Him at the pages...and thus we walk through our secret garden.