If you could have a secret garden, where would it be? How would it look? What would happen there?

Mine would have a setting of hills and a view where I can see the sun rise and then watch it set again with a loch in between with the water so still that it looks like a mirror with a perfect reflection of everything that is around it.

There would be birds flying around and squirrels jumping around in the branches and rabbits in the long grass and I could sit and watch a guy on a boat in the middle of the water fishing away and the only sounds are those that mother nature made herself.

Getting there would involve a small squeaky gate that is just not hanging right at all and a small path leading down to it with the path being slightly overgrown.

Mine would be a woodland glade with a stream meandering through it.

It would be on the edge of a cliff mountains behind a river just short of the bay and the ocean visible from the atop. It would always be sunset or evening. The sky ablaze with reddish orange fire underlit by it’s reflection on the water.

I would be able climb trees and feel a cool brisk breeze stimulating refreshing awakening and prodding and maddening the nerves. Frothing and foaming like cresting waves lapping at invaders of the sea.

I would be able to climb down the cliff at low tide and bury my bare toes in the smooth wet sand pounded flat. A few rocks to skip and one to sit on. smooth and round on one side rough and abrasive full of interesting twists and cracks on the other.

At high tide I would retreat back to a lush mossy ground, wild untamed, complex. The valley full of delicate tundra, small plants grown on top of moss and water and grass humps and clay. Layers thick. You could crouch and turn in a circle trying to count all the different plants in front of you the tiny bouquets and groupings lost amoung the sea of it. Plunge your hands deep into it and you don’t reach earth. Fragile strands tearing shredding easily under a light touch. Hands get noticably cooler as they descend. Removing them the moss springs back, it will knit itself back together.

Falling backward head and back cushioned. Maybe a little moist. Looking up there are a few birds flying overhead. You can hear the persistent chatter or chickadees. The busy ness around you refreshing and sweet. No need to join in but you want to. The tree line starts out small ahead. Interspersed with a small tree here or there. Edged into the alders perfect umbrellas to crawl under and be sheltered from the elements. Giving way to some willowy birch their knotted and peeling bark a perfect backdrop for the deep leaves. A few forest green pine. Adding texture and complexity to a simple back drop. There will be paths and secrets and wallows to discover in them.

The hills above are mounds of green patterened out and on display like fine handwoven fabric.
The Mountains sprawl distant and mighty and contrast the dapples of greenery. And it is avaible to those who seek and appreciate it.

@rosehips Beautiful.

There’d be three eight foot stone walls that enclose a garden. The open wall would reveal the ocean. The garden would have to be far enough away so that plants could grow…so beyond most of the ocean spray. I’d have lots of vines and leafy plants intermixed with bursts of colour. I’d have a pond with running water. In the middle or in corner I’d place a comfy lounge chair where I could retreat to to contemplate life or read.

There’s a moongate at the entrance to my garden. It’s hidden by overgrown yews, so you have to know it’s there in order to find it. The gate is carved from a single stone, and decorated with glyphs of forgotten meaning. Despite its weight, the gate is hung well, so that it is easy to open and close.

It’s gloomy beneath the trees inside the gate and cool, even on the hottest days. There is a bench next to a small pool on one side. But the path leads downhill, and as we go, it grows lighter, and we begin to get a whiff of sulfur. A few feet later we find ourselves in a kind of natural amphitheater. The red rocks are smoothed by some unknown process.

But our eyes are drawn to a pool set at the bottom of the rocks. The water steams and the smell of sulfur is a bit stronger, but not at all unpleasant. There are mahogany benches and tables and chairs set around the pool, where we can take off our clothes, or eat.

The water is extremely hot. When you first put your toe in it, you don’t believe you’ll be able to stand it, but slowly you get in, and within moments, the heat works like a massage therapist, loosening your muscle and relaxing you and you lean back slowly, then open your eyes in shock.

For in front of you is an incredible expanse of ocean and the sun is setting, lending that warm reddish tinge to the sky that makes you feel like you are in paradise and there is nothing you need to do and you are perfect as you are.

Thanks @Shippy. Really just a description of childhood landscape with maybe a little influence from my current environment.

Truthfully it probably change, cherry blossoms littering the ground and a simple wooden bridge. The hot desert and blue sky craggy cliffs interspersed with some vegitation. Grape arbors. Orchards, Scotland heather and cregs. Nature is my garden.

In the tropics, but since it’s my dream garden, there would be NO MOSQUITOES!!!!

A mango tree grows there and pineapple plants are scattered all around. Also passionfruit vines on trellises, the flowers visited by butterflies and hummingbirds. I’d spend my visits there photosynthesizing in the sun and jumping into the pool when I got too warm.

I would have a very special vegetable and herb garden. It would have raised beds so that all of the produce was easily accessible for someone in a wheelchair to work on. The watering system would be automatic. The vegetation would be lush with the different leaf textures and vegetable colors. Reds, ranges, yellows, purple, and the greens of both leaves and several vegetables. The bounty of it would fuel the local food bank. And my sweetie would love it.

I have this special place my husband and I used to talk about and a place where we will meet. I will only tell you its in the afterlife.
If I talk about it it won’t be our secret anymore :/

Mine is some kind of clearing in the woods, right by a small, calm river. It’s usually bright out. Very sunny, but sometimes it’s overcast. Either way, it’s always pleasant. There’s always a noticeable wind. Sometimes a very cool one. But not uncomfortably cool. Sometimes a warm breeze. But there’s always wind.
There’s bushes and trees and crap all over surrounding the clearing, and all is silent but the wind and the river. Long grass and wild flowers, usually sunny, some bees buzzing around sometimes. A buncha dragonflies near the river, once there was even a duck, just swimming around, being all chill anshit.
I usually lay against a big tree, and them some lady comes over and cradles me, like as if I was three years old. She keeps telling me stories, and eventually I fall asleep in her arms. I think it’s someone’s mom. Maybe her stories are boring so that’s why I fall asleep, I’m not sure. Mostly I think it’s the whole comfort thing though.
It’s like, at the risk of sounding corny, I like to think it’s some kind of alternate reality. My mom doesn’t like me, and I’m pretty sure somewhere out there, there’s a mother who lost her kid, or who doesn’t get along with hers. We just make with what we got, or rather don’t got, so whoever this lady is, and whoever I am to her, we just comfort each other for the fuck of it. Then we get back to our respective realities, and silently agree that one cannot replace the other. Sometimes man, you just need an extra weapon lying around, if you’re gonna conquer something.

fuck, I’m late for my psychotherapy session, brb bro

I’m not telling anyone because it wouldn’t be a fucking secret then now would it?

A secret garden is not the same thing as a garden that is a secret.

Ooh, an enigma wrapped in a paradox…or maybe that’s back to front.