So. If my sanctuary is not in the kitchen, where is it?Outdoors. Pretty much anywhere not constricted by four walls and snuffed by a ceiling, not supplied with mechanical air.
The sun. The breeze. The rain. The moon and stars. Earth. Sand. Water. Snow. Trees in all their seasonal finery. Flowers, grasses, brambles and bracken. Animals, from the tiniest beetle to the greatest whale.
And my personal altar in that boundless sanctuary—my garden.
The kiss of the sun for pardon,
The song of the birds for mirth,
One is nearer God's heart in a garden
Than anywhere else on earth.
--Dorothy Frances Gurney
2 comments:
Beautiful pictures! I read both your blogs, but this one is SO much easier to comment on -just in case you thought I'd left you forever ;)
A beautiful entry Lisa. The pictures are oh-so-lovely. For many years my mother had just that poem on a plaque in her garden. When she sold that house she passed it on to my sister who hangs on to it still.
Your flamingo friend, Kathy
Post a Comment