My garden is a very special place…
Small magical beings live here
My garden is my joy and refuge, and it is also my favorite place to relax, play and pick roses...
My garden is my joy and refuge, and it is also my favorite place to relax, play and pick roses... 
My garden is also a place of secrecy, the place where I can dance without inhibitions, pray out loud if I want to and, sometimes, even cry out loud too.
It is my sanctuary... angels walk here. And I'm not making this up. I should tell you one day.
This is also the place where I keep all sort of silly things; usually things that make me happy…
Who would've thought that the Ivy could grow old silver pots amidst its dark mysterious leaves?
Ah yes, the only inconvenience of having such a delightful magical door in your garden is not having the key to unlock it. Yes, I’ve lost the magical key to the magical door! And I am now desperately looking for it.
I have searched every imaginable place you can think of... my friends the rabbits have faithfully followed me everywhere trying to help me find it, but optimism is fading away fast.
You see, without this key I cannot go back to Hollow Woods ever again, and I won't be able to be transported to Arabella's world of mysteries and illicit love again... and as you can remember, I have a story to finish. So I must go back and learn as much as I can so that later I can come back and relate everything I'd seen...
You see, without this key I cannot go back to Hollow Woods ever again, and I won't be able to be transported to Arabella's world of mysteries and illicit love again... and as you can remember, I have a story to finish. So I must go back and learn as much as I can so that later I can come back and relate everything I'd seen...
Have you, by any change, seen this key anywhere in your garden? Hopefully, you’d know of some nice gnome or fairy in your garden that would be willing to come help find the key to my magical door? Oh I do hope so!
A troll by the name of Barbegazi lives here too. As some of you may know, snow trolls don’t never ever come out of their winter burrows deep down under the ground during warm weather. But because anything can happen here (and it would!), you may be lucky and find him strolling the gardens, proudly exhibiting his lovely Sedum Spurium hair, which by the way it has grown beautifully this spring!
My favorite above all my garden favorites would has to be the mysterious and ever so controversial “Lechuza”, or “Mochuelo”… the Gypsies call her "Ghost of the Nigh"—the owl, with its large eyes and mysterious ways.
When I was a little girl growing up in a faraway land, I was terrified of them. Folks in our little rural community were very superstitious. They believed that the presence of an owl could only meant one thing: That a ghost was lurking nearby. Thus, Lechuzas were detested and much feared. Lechuzas were harbingers of death. Mothers and grandmothers would teach their children to hide from them, and fathers and grandfathers would lock every window and every door of their houses at the stroke of midnight to prevent bad luck from coming in whenever a Lechuza would cross the night sky.
My favorite above all my garden favorites would has to be the mysterious and ever so controversial “Lechuza”, or “Mochuelo”… the Gypsies call her "Ghost of the Nigh"—the owl, with its large eyes and mysterious ways.When I was a little girl growing up in a faraway land, I was terrified of them. Folks in our little rural community were very superstitious. They believed that the presence of an owl could only meant one thing: That a ghost was lurking nearby. Thus, Lechuzas were detested and much feared. Lechuzas were harbingers of death. Mothers and grandmothers would teach their children to hide from them, and fathers and grandfathers would lock every window and every door of their houses at the stroke of midnight to prevent bad luck from coming in whenever a Lechuza would cross the night sky.
My sister Lissette and I were never ever to look into a Lechuza’s unmovable large eyes or gargoyle-like face. And so, whenever they would fly low over the tin roof of our humble little house at night we would cover our ears and hide under our blankets trembling with fear. The eerie-sounding cries of the Lechuzas used to send shivers up our spines.
Isn’t it funny how we humans would outgrow our fears as we, through the years, learn, understand and get gradually exposed to the sources of our anxieties? Ah yes, I love owls, and I have them everywhere in my garden; only they’re not real ;) I keep dreaming and hoping that one day I will see a beautiful owl perch high in our Spruce Pine... silly me an owl in my urban garden! Oh well, one can always dream, right? 
And what are you up to these days?—anything funny, silly, interesting or just same going on in your own little world these days? I’d love to hear about it!
