Life in slowdown.

There’s suddenly time to rest when you learn to resist the urge to rush. Easing into a slower pace allows the smaller things to come into focus, a chance to play a bigger role in the everyday.

The garden opens up into a world just for us. It’s cold in March in our layers and with warm mugs of tea. We should be in New York but we potter about nurturing the garden to health ready for the longer days to come. It feels good outside in the elements, feeling in my element. I start to notice how busy the garden is, up in the sky and down in the ground.

Lying under the apple tree I watch the blossom grow through April and blow away through May. There’s a buzz of bees above me busy working and the song of the birds carry from tree to tree. We watch the birds play dashing across fences and into bushes, calling to friends.

The man tending to his plants is finding his way too through the slower pace, his mindfulness is his camera. From here he captures it all; the cat at the window, the bees in the plant pot and the frog under the bush. Then the robin comes in for his close-up, a little thank you for stirring up the worms.

Endless minutes and hours are spent staring at everything and nothing. The smell of jasmine in the air in May as it cascades over the fence. The smell of rain on the warm ground, of the earth and the dirt. Have you ever noticed how the rain falls softer in the spring, with the leaves on the trees and bushes?

A world so big now feels so small and there’s happiness in the slowness. Time to pause, to think and to feel a surge of love for nature and for this man beside me absorbing it all in his own way.