John has accompanied me today on this trip to the retreat my
daughter and her family have discovered in the center of Hawkes Bay. The unique
property they’ve chosen with this odd terrain of paddocks and cliffs and
bush-covered pathways is a source of constant admiration and inspiration for
us, as we explore the lay of the land with them. The plans her partner has made
to embellish the already magnificent place with more planters, a tunnel house
and all of his associated massive improvements to the garden as it gets even
more fine tuned so thoughtfully, boggle the mind. While he loses himself in his
construction projects she is planting seeds for later harvests and cooking and
baking and homeschooling and creating their lives here with her own artistry
that shows in everything she does. But it is the spirit of this house and land
that take our breath away for as the woman who lived here before developed this
garden from scratch and added the hundred or so roses and perennials and
natives and trees and sculptured it to fit their family life over 30 years, the
man, a woodworking genius, added the house and structures outside to every nook
and cranny. The grace they achieved in their associated labors of love astound
me now, decades later. The kids have lived in this house for close to a year of
changing this and that while my now 8-year-old grandson, Elijah, has this
backdrop (and foredrop) to experience barefoot and in all weather along with
Mochi the dog and Pepin and Lulu the cats and the six inquisitive hens that lay
eggs like the clappers and are waiting for any attention at every doorway. This
weekend with John’s help their hen house is going to be expanded again, this
time with a second story. Every creature here is so lucky to live
here, so buffered from the hustle and busy ness of the outside world.
As I sit quietly with my thoughts this morning in the utter
stillness and tranquility I wonder about the peacefulness that washes over me
on my visits here. It’s as if a gigantic eraser takes away all my stress as
soon as I see their long driveway lined with trees and rhododendrons and masses
of every bulb or bit of organic beauty imaginable. It’s so enchanting in every
direction that it wouldn’t be hard to imagine fairy tale characters behind the hedges
near the massive camellias and azaleas that line the pathways and arbors or the
wisteria draped eaves. When I saw the lilacs in bloom and took a good whiff of
their perfume, I was literally in heaven, spellbound by the essence. I almost
ate the wisteria this morning that pervaded the air seductively. But the whole
place is like that for me. It’s a balm for the last few years of
incomprehensible pain and panic about the state of the world and our place in
its mazes of confusion and chaos that underpin our lives.
This place feeds my soul. I must come here more often and plug into this exquisite palette to get over myself and any pettiness and worries I might have. There is an abundance of hope here amongst all this nature and it just is, like the stream that runs through here. We certainly don’t have to tell the stream how to flow. I truly believe that this is where my salvation begins as I see life through the lens of what others did and still are doing to this piece of paradise they found.