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01/27/2024
Genoveva
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Genoveva
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The enchanted garden...
You could get lost in my grandmother's garden, there were the large meadows, the goldfish pond, rhododendron bushes, the old arbor, chestnut trees, an almost hollow oak tree that a child could slip into - it was a paradise for playing hide-and-seek, cops and robbers in summer or simply lying in the grass and forgetting the time while a woolly sheep chewed its cud quietly next to you. Sometimes you would be surprised by a sudden downpour, take refuge in the arbor and watch the spectacle from there. Afterwards, the air smelled of leaves, steaming earth and freshly mown, sweet grass. I just have to close my eyes and I'm back there again, in that peaceful place where time seemed to stand still, a somnambulistic phenomenon that is probably irretrievably part of childhood...
British Grassland captures all of this for me. I didn't think it could be so authentic and I honestly shed a tear. Thank you dear Floyd for the opportunity to take this journey into the past.
British Grassland captures all of this for me. I didn't think it could be so authentic and I honestly shed a tear. Thank you dear Floyd for the opportunity to take this journey into the past.
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