The sparrows are flitting among the silver beet and kale, picking off tiny caterpillars and feasting.
A little silver eye picks at the last fruit on the weeping mulberry. One of the cats lies nearby, but the tiny bird is unperturbed.
The pot marjoram, inconveniently self-seeded and thriving in the middle of a path, is providing food for the bees now, so we'll continue to walk around it.
The zucchini bush, which had its first flower the other day (female, no male flowers), now has fruit magically filling out, thanks no doubt to our stripey, buzzy friends.
Purslane has come to visit - I never knew it before - and now it lives happily alongside the dandelion and yellow dock and wild lettuce. Weeds to many, but to me they are foods and medicines.
My garden is my pantry and my medicine chest, my gym and my classroom, my joy and my meditation. It is a place I can really breathe, taking in the fresh, clean air and exhaling the tension. It is my sanctuary.
But most of all, it is a place I feel at one with nature in all its magnificence, beauty, purpose and playfulness.
It is by no means something out of a fancy magazine, but there's magic in my garden. Hope you can find the magic in yours too.
love and light