Just outside of the city there is a secret garden, lost and alone....
It is attached to a train platform that has been transformed into a house and I was lucky enough to be escorted there on sunday and the afternoon flew by in a flurry of sun lit exploration.
We were so consumed by all these smells and tastes... Dill, mint, horse radish, pea's, rocket, parsley... It was beautiful...
If you told me I had been transported into my Poppy's veggie patch in Sunny bank, I wouldn't have argued.
Everything was overgrown and wild. The herbs had broken the confinements of their pots and boxes, the fish were no longer in the pond, the garden chairs had rusted through and the green house was no longer green, but brown and brittle.
At the bottom of the garden a massive heritage listed Morton bay fig was shading a strange collection of solid wooden chairs that had been dug into the ground, impossible to move. The way they had been arranged was peculiar and you could almost see the layers of many moons sat upon them.
Driving home through the city was a weird feeling. How could a place so untamed and natural be so close to this world of structure and order...
I was too busy feeling free to photograph a lot of the afternoon. But you get the idea.
amazing!
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