Is no secret... sometimes I can’t seem to remember who I am, or where I am. Is very simple, and it can happen to you too if you let your imagination fly far and wide. You suddenly wake up, and find yourself magically transported to some amazing land. You won’t even need a willowroot magic wand to be transported. All you have to do is climb the magical stairs of imagination....
I'm in a place visited by bizarre inhabitants, teeming with unicorns and elves: The deep mysterious wood surrounding the Hallow, that's what is called. If you don’t know it yet, the Hallow is an enchanting small village somewhere in Dreamland; a place filled with magic, where I have the most delicious time playing games, gathering bouquets, picking apples, and dreaming in huge magical cherry trees...
One might think that I have an obsession with the Alice of Lewis Carroll, but this isn't true. You'll not find a Mad Hatter or a white rabbit no matter how hard you look, in any of my dreams! The lure of the land and the redheaded orphan with a scope for imagination by the name of Anne Shirley are much more my sweet cup of tea. You must understand, there are no limits to fantasy here in the garden. You simply have to go by your own code of rules and beliefs based on fancy; capricious, whimsical fancies of the imagination...
The last time I sat here, in this same spot you're seeing now, Berbegazi came to visit from his frozen underground dungeon. Is you don't remember him, or never ever have seen him before (and I hope you haven't), he's a troll as bleak as snow and as rigid as ice. Berbegazi is his name, and he inhabits tunnel and burrows in arctic tundra and snowed mountain peaks, but sometimes he chooses lovely gardens to dwell.
But that was back when all the snows of the world seem to have accumulated here. Berbegazi is now hibernating, and this morning is particularly beautiful, and warm. The sky has the bluest tint to it, and the purest balmy air is bringing in myriads of tiny butterflies to the garden. Butterflies that look like magical little flying flowers as they flutter and dance above the snow balls, lupines and smiling pansies.
You can tell the birds welcome warmth with the same joyfulness I do. They’re happy little souls, you can hear them singing, see them fleeting the skies or scurrying among green branches without an apparent worry. One would almost think that birds have ideals and values which they’re trying to live up to, even if they never quite succeed... Life would be a sad place without them. With them it’s grand and great...
Did you know that fairies abound in this place? Look at them very closely, and tell me if you see flowers or fairies dancing in the sunlight... See what I mean?
Like Anne Shirley would say: "Isn’t it splendid to think of all the things there are to find out about? It just makes me glad to be alive – it’s such an interesting world. It wouldn’t be half so interesting if we knew all about everything, would it? There’d be no scope for imagination then, would there?" But am I talking too much?
These are called columbine flowers, and their dainty fairy-like blooms held high above delicate foliage, nod and dance in the breeze. Surely one of the top reasons why I love coming here must be the fairies, the color bursts of flowers, the exotic fragrances of leaves, the hypnotic effect of arching stems swaying in the wind, the singing of the trees as gentle breezes rattle their leaves, and of course, the intriguing columbines...
I like to give columbine exotic names like “Joyful Adelfa”, “Fairy Mist”, “Yellow Luna”, and “Colorida Almida”. As I gazed at them floating and dancing above the surrounding vegetation I know why they always have been inspiration for the notion of woodland fairies. Oh yes, I see fairies in my garden. Can you see them too? They’re dancing in the sunshine with wreaths of columbines and foxglove wands in their hands. 
I told you... is pure magic here.... I walk through my garden just like Anne of Green Gables walked through Violet Vale on her way to school, with reverent steps and worshipping eyes, as if I trod on holy ground. What can I say? I love my garden, and when I am here is like being in Paradise. My own delicious little Paradise!
Have a great day everyone, and don't forget to dream in your garden!
