a tiny garden of hope



There’s a warmth to the early morning air already, and a soft hum of distant traffic. The buzzing of a far off hovering helicopter, is balanced out by the squarks of the overhead parrots starting their day, shrieking from branch to branch.

A stillness to the air, that is appreciated and quietly charges me.

A sleepy sun begins a slow climb upwards, wet washing gets pegged out and plants watered, ready for the heat of the day.

The pause, a moment. A flick off of a reluctant caterpillar. There’s hope in this tiny garden of mine. Tiny bubbles of hope, that at 6am I can feel sitting around me. Hope in more forms than I can count. I like it, in fact I love it. It feels sometime since I had taken the time to fully absorb the morning in my tiny potted garden. Perhaps even some time since I had truly taken in those bubbles of hope.

The kettle has boiled, there is a pot of chai tea waiting inside. Precious minutes, before thoughts are returned to someone or something else for the day.

Maybe just one more moment, with my tiny garden of hope.

22 thoughts on “a tiny garden of hope

  1. It’s lovely to have a garden no matter what the size. Beautiful words and so very true. I love the start of the days at this time of year – and with the sun rising so early they certainly do start early xx


  2. These occasional journal-style entries are lovely Brydie and, as I’ve said before, I believe that they are literature. Keep writing through these busy years, your time will come.


  3. Brydie – wonderful to hear you ‘peg’ out clothes. So many people I know use dryers no matter the weather and it utterly cheeses me off; Boy I’d love to hear parrots in our trees. I was only thinking this morning how the crows have chased away so much of the beautiful birdlife we used to enjoy around here. Hate ’em.


  4. Lovely post. We had pigs in our back garden last year and while I can’t say they added serenity to the morning, I used to love having a reason to go out in the garden first thing every morning to feed them. I couldn’t resist having a potter in my pjs around the rest of the dewy garden, noticing new buds and veggies emerging. Just me. Well, apart from a few snorts & oinks!


  5. I’m jealous of you pegging out your washing. I’m living in the US and they don’t do that here. I am missing my early mornings hanging out the laundry in the Northern Territory heat and humidity


  6. I love that sense of promise a little baby fruit on a tree presents to us. You go from gazing in wonder at it , to imagining sitting at the table eating fruit salad , saying proudly, ‘Yes I grew this…’. Of course in my case, a goat could eat it before it gets to my fruit salad…but in that first moment there is so much hope.
    You are amazing with your tiny potted garden , I look forward to seeing it grow.


    • How annoying Kim. My mum had alpacas that were the same, would eat anything in their path. I’m so hopeful for those blueberries, they’ve never been happy in their pot and I’ve only ever got one, yes one blueberry from it before. This year, ohhh fingers are crossed.


  7. Pingback: Finding my tribe #Brydie at Cityhippyfarmgirl – Greening the Rose

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