I have changed so many houses in the last 20 years, that I find my decision to leave the photos of my childhood at my parent's place pretty wise :)
I rarely miss having them, but this time I wish I had the photos of my grandparent's garden and share it with you.
What was the first garden you remember, and what impact did it have on you?
I started writing a comment three days ago but it was too difficult to express it just with words. Then all these images and memories started popping up in my head and I tried to give them shape and share it with you.
So, here is my first collage ever! First thing I did was to share the picture with my mother and make sure it was not all made up in my mind. I am happy to announce that she loved it! Well, she is my mom! I was very embarrassed to share it in public, but I spent sooo many hours throughout these days working on it that it felt a pity not to show it in the end.
I grew up in an apartment and lived in several apartments till 8 years ago (and 11 days) when I changed my life and moved to a small village and became a farmer. I have always been a city girl and at the same time my instinct was shouting out loud that my heart belongs to Nature, so eventually it would happen!
The only garden I remember clearly from my childhood is the garden of my grandparents, that lived in another city. It was my joy and an adventure in my little head. Looked enormous, but honestly it was not that big...
It is amazing though how much this garden has affected me.
My grandfather was a very sweet person. One of these guys that everyone loves and wants to have a drink with. On the other hand my grandmother is a very strict person, mistakes are not easily forgiven and everything has to be in order.
The garden is split in two parts. The left one is where the roses and my grandmother rule. But they rule in such an order that similar you can find in the army. Soldier-roses. They are all aligned and no branch should stand out. The disobedient ones were immediately cut. But they all had such a magic smell!
I like chaotic gardens, all plants mixed together. Is this a reaction to my grandmother? A therapist could say, but I am quite sure it has something to do with this :)
My favorite spot by far was the corner with the fig tree. A huge one (really) that my father had to climb on using the old wooden ladder and got lost in the branches, to come out with kilos of the most delicious figs I have ever tasted. Is the glory of their taste in my imagination? Maybe. I dream of them, but mostly of the moment seeing my father coming out from the branches with the basket full! Under the sound of the cicadas going crazy!
My grandfather was a barrel maker. In the garden there were two huge wooden barrels. They were filled up with water to make sure that there would be enough for the plants in case the water was cut, which was not very unusual.
These barrels were a place of pure terror (can you spot the snake?) and pure joy.
We used to play water balloons with my cousins in the hot days. My older cousin is about 15 years older than me. She was my goddess and till now she is one of my most beloved persons. There is a photo where my cousin holds the balloon (actually is a plastic bag) full of water and she is ready to throw it at our brothers, they are screaming. I am behind her feeling so proud and happy that I was with her, protected and loved.
The terror comes every time I want to open the barrel on my own and the warning was to be careful of the snakes around the barrels or in them. Knees and teeth clacking. Never saw a single one there. Same with the rocks and scorpions. As if everything had to produce terror, a terror that took effort every time to overcome and feel free in nature (while keeping an eye around!).
Another terror story, at least if you are a small kid.
There was an old broom to remove the leaves. (Remember? Everything has to be in order!)
I liked to do this job, but my 6 years older brother told me once that if a splinter comes in my finger it will go all the way to my heart and you know, kaput. I trusted everything my brother said back then :)
Can you see her sardonic smile?
My grandparent's neighbor always waited for me to give me small presents that the company he worked was giving him, but his kids were older and I was the one to receive usually a plastic ball thrown from his side to our garden (running to reach it before it gets to the roses and ruin the flowers) and many more.
This was a garden at the edge of a city, but I had my intense moments in there. I was absolutely convinced that there was life in the enormous oregano plant that still feeds many families. Or in the jasmine at the fence. I could feel I was watched, not always in a terrifying way :) I have so many good memories in this garden after all. And I still remember how happy I was when I put my hands in the soil.
I think it deserves to be inhabited by all these nature goddesses. At least in my mind and my collage, where I can do whatever I want!
The collage was made in Photoshop (not familiar at all with it) and all photos were taken from pixabay.
Just for the joy of the backstage, here are the images that were used to give the feeling of the 4 years old me being at that garden:
If you would like to know more about me this is my introduction post!