APR 29 : 119/365


Here, in the garden at night, it is another world,
strange and yet friendly and familiar, never frightening.
There is such quietness, such sweetness, such refreshment.

Close your eyes.  Breathe in again, smell everything mingled together,
flowers and earth and leaves and grass.
Smell the night.

Nothing at all.
Silence, rushing like the sea in your ears.

However small and sparse the garden,
and wherever it is, even inside a great city,
if something grows there,
it is a magic place by night.

Leave it,
walk quietly back towards the lights that shine out of the house.
You will take its magic with you.

Now, you will sleep.

– Susan Hill, Through the Garden Gate


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