The secret garden of hidden truths
Follow me to the secret garden
She came to this place as though it were by instinct. The pathway to this hidden place was lush and closed in around her as she approached the hedge. The old hedge of Crepe Myrtles stretched 30 feet or more along the hillside. When she stepped past it there was a heavy wrought iron gate that was now rusted and broken away from its hinges. It was covered in thick vines weaving their way through every hole. Everything looked so intriguing through heavy iron and leafy vines. The gate made the garden more alluring and she heard it call her name. Temptation forced her to take a peek and she was rendered breathless at the sight. Someone had gone to a lot of trouble to hide this place it must be a secret worth keeping. It looked as if this garden had a mind of its own and was not willing to reveal its secret too easily. It resembled an old Gothic graveyard and a most unusual sight, like a time and place in another world. It was so close and hidden in a landscape of open beach dunes only a few feet away. The garden was hauntingly beautiful but it was filled with a resonance of deep sorrow that radiated throughout the grounds. Roses and honeysuckle vines grew wildly and the moon flowers were just beginning to open as the light began to fade. Night Jasmine saturated the air with a luring scent that said come closer. The graveyard garden was bordered by a rusty iron fence and each three foot section ended with a 7 foot pole. Hanging from each pole was a glowing garden lantern. The light that flickered as the lanterns swayed with the breeze dazzled her eyes. It bathed the garden with shimmering light and set it apart from the landscape that surrounded it. The plants seemed to respond to her arrival by growing taller and unleashing an intoxicating scent as she passed by.
Twilight, lovely flowers, and a lantern’s glow set this garden apart from the world. It was silent except for the sound of the breeze that whispered through the vines. The whispering silence made her feel on edge and uncomfortable standing in her own skin. Her heart raced as she felt every breath hot and damp coming from her lips. It seemed more like a dream; this place couldn’t be real. She looked to the center of the memorial garden and there was a beautiful angel standing seven feet tall with her wings gracefully opened wide. The base of the statue read, “Angel of Hope”. Suddenly she got the feeling that she didn’t belong and was intruding on a private space but then she noticed something. The name on the little head stone at the base of the statue was familiar. It was in the middle of tiny flowers and several other broken headstones. Rose vines had taken over and grew wildly in and out of the head stones and over the wrought iron fence. A honeysuckle vine was spewing a heavy scent into the atmosphere. If it weren’t for the stunning beauty of this place it would be almost unbearable. The emotion of this secret garden was overwhelming and she couldn’t help but be over-taken by the power of sadness that resonated. Her time in this secret garden was a walk that weaved its way through the lies of her life but she didn’t recognize the truth that was standing right before her.
It felt like a good day for story telling. This story is based on the time I went searching for my roots and found the truth in a beautiful garden/cemetery.
Enjoy this day and everyday!
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