The off white picket gate with a latch on the other side that I could only just about reach, standing on my tiptoes. The rough edges of the top lightly scraping the underneath of my right forearm. The metal latch felt warm to touch in the Summer evening sun. I nudged the gate open with my knee, grateful that it swung open so freely.

The tall pure white Cosmos and their soft foliage tickled my face. They were taller than I had remembered. The petals cupped a bumblebee giving it a safe haven to rest and gorge on the pollen. My sandalled feet crunched on the gravel as I made my way down the path.

The strong scent of English Lavender waved me into a sense of complete happiness like it always did at this time of year. How I longed to lay amongst lavender hedges and breathe it in deeper. The bright yellow beacons of Echinacea pollen beckoned me closer, inviting me to run my index finger over their spiky yet surprisingly soft mounds. I moved in closer to smell them, quickly moving back to allow a bee their right of passage.

Oh how the Hollyhocks with their peachy glow towered so high above me. There were only a few flowers left towards the very top, far out of my reach. I removed my sandals as I reached the cushiony lawn and tiptoed through the Chamomile towards my destination.

I could already see the vibrant globes of crimson peeking through the lush green leaves. Reaching behind the cold frame I felt the familiarity of the wicker handle of the basket that always awaited me. I dragged it out, knowing that the first fruits wouldn’t make it to the basket. Plucking the brightest red tomato that I could reach, I took a bite, the seeds bursting out onto my white t-shirt. It was the sweetest one I’ve every tasted, yet I know I think that every single time. I filled the basket to the brim with all the ripe heirlooms I could get to before returning back through the garden closing the picket gate as I left.

Thirty five years later it is still a journey that I take with complete appreciation for the world around me. The only difference being that I no longer have to enter and exit through the picket gate. For this has become my home.