This plant I bought on a whim from a nursery. I don’t know what it is but it kind of reminds me of the undergrowth of a forest. I like the thin wiry stems that look as if they are reaching high…for something.
And the dried coral? It usually sits on a bookshelf in a clear plastic box with other sea objects. This piece came from what used to be Grandfather’s garden.
Down the back of Grandfather’s garden was a raised pond. It had a glass panel at the front. As a child, I’d tap it as a way to call the gold fish. Standing up, I would see a partially covering the pond, a miniature mountain village. It was landscaped with bonsais and pagodas. Here and there were little bearded men – always old, always wise and always active – playing mahjong, talking or walking.
Also, there was a bridge and on the edge of the river, a man (also old) with a fishing rod and fish that had ‘just’ come from the river. I can still hear the river trickling into the pond.
None of this is in the garden now but it is clear in my mind’s eye – the sound, the feeling and the scenes.