It's hot and humid and kind of small, pokey even. And it smells like my grandpa's greenhouse used to. I've always felt very at home in gardens, and maybe even more so in greenhouses. This one is also about the same size as the one attached to my grandparent's house, so it warms my heart a bit for that reason as well.
Plants grow riotously, against a backdrop of ashen winter landscape:
And there are sweet little details, like shells pressed into the concrete ages ago ... who do you think put them there? Sometimes I hate whimsy, but I love this:
Plus, I'm very fond of the light fixtures, so pendulous and full:
I wish I could have one for my dining room!
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2 comments:
Oh I'm a little late but I guess EVERYONE DOESN'T need to find someplace like this to recharge in about this time of year. I know I sure did when I lived in NYC. Somehow the air is lighter and softer and easier to breathe in such places.
I love to be around plants. Plants keep me alive. Mentally I mean.
-Zane of ontario honey
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