July 17, 2025
☕️🌹 Secret Garden - Part 2 of 3 - Relaxing Stories for Adults
Welcome to The Slow Life - A village filled with cozy stories for everyone. This story is called Secret Garden, and it’s about spending the weekend at a bed & breakfast, nature’s reminders, and the way it can be perfectly unruly. This is Part 2 of 3 stories relating to a weekend stay at the Secret Garden Bed & Breakfast.
🇨🇦 These stories are written, edited and narrated by Jennifer Zwicker.
Support this podcast at Patreon, here https://patreon.com/theslowlifecalmingstories?utm_medium=unknown&utm_source=join_link&utm_campaign=creatorshare_creator&utm_content=copyLink
~~~~
Benefits of listening to cozy stories or adult bedtime stories with The Slow Life:
1. Relaxation and Stress Relief
• You want to unwind after a stressful day.
• The gentle pacing, soothing tone, and comforting narratives help calm your mind and body.
2. Help Falling Asleep
• Many people use bedtime stories as a sleep aid. We’ve been told ours help.
• A calming story distracts from anxious or racing thoughts, making it easier to drift off. Especially with a second reading as we have, because you already know what happens.
3. Comfort and Nostalgia
• You’re looking for the emotional safety and warmth that often comes with familiar or gently imaginative stories.
• Cozy stories can evoke fond childhood memories or a sense of being cared for.
4. Escape and Imagination
• A peaceful story can provide a gentle escape from reality without overstimulation.
• Listeners enjoy being transported to a calm village, a peaceful garden, or a quaint and cozy inn.
5. Mindfulness and Presence
• The slow, descriptive nature of cozy storytelling encourages a mindful focus on the present.
• It can be a form of meditative listening, grounding you, the listener, in sensory details and slow pacing.
6. Companionship and Connection
• Perhaps, for people who live alone or feel lonely, a narrator’s voice can feel like friendly company.
• It’s a quiet, non-demanding form of social presence.
🧡 Bedtime stories for grown ups
🧡 Bedtime stories for kids
🧡 Meditation story
Secret Garden is a cozy bedtime story about having a little staycation in my own town. There is beauty, there is comfort. It may help put you to sleep. Calming stories to help you sleep. Relieve anxiety.
⚠️ Take care listening while driving or doing any activity that requires your full attention.
- All stories - Copyright Jennifer Zwicker 2024, 2025
1
00:00:01,980 --> 00:00:07,590
Welcome to The Slow Life, a
village filled with cozy stories
2
00:00:07,600 --> 00:00:12,790
for everyone.
I'll read this story 2 times to
3
00:00:12,800 --> 00:00:17,490
help you zone out or even fall
asleep during the second
4
00:00:17,500 --> 00:00:22,520
reading.
This story is called Secret
5
00:00:22,530 --> 00:00:27,200
Garden and it's about spending
the weekend at a bed and
6
00:00:27,210 --> 00:00:33,260
breakfast, natures reminders and
the way it can be perfectly
7
00:00:33,310 --> 00:00:39,610
unruly.
I'm spending the weekend at The
8
00:00:39,620 --> 00:00:45,200
Secret Garden Bed and Breakfast,
a vacation in my own village
9
00:00:45,460 --> 00:00:49,330
that I've started to take every
summer around this time.
10
00:00:50,610 --> 00:00:55,760
The air is sweet with the soft
perfume of things blooming that
11
00:00:55,770 --> 00:00:58,200
have yet to show themselves to
me.
12
00:00:59,450 --> 00:01:04,580
The door clicks shut behind me,
and for a moment I pause on the
13
00:01:04,590 --> 00:01:08,160
step, letting the quiet wrap
around me.
14
00:01:09,570 --> 00:01:14,640
I'm not even in the main garden
yet, and I'm still surrounded by
15
00:01:14,650 --> 00:01:20,180
lush greens of all shades and
deep Reds of small Japanese
16
00:01:20,190 --> 00:01:24,780
maples.
Moving forward, my shoes tap
17
00:01:24,790 --> 00:01:30,140
lightly on the flagstone path
drawn down a short walkway
18
00:01:30,220 --> 00:01:34,000
hemmed in by foxglove and ladies
mantle.
19
00:01:35,070 --> 00:01:39,400
Then I see it.
A charming old thing of wrought
20
00:01:39,410 --> 00:01:44,200
iron, softened by vines that
weave their way through the
21
00:01:44,210 --> 00:01:50,340
slats and curly cues, their tiny
white blossoms spaced perfectly
22
00:01:50,350 --> 00:01:54,820
amongst the leaves, almost fully
covering the gate.
23
00:01:56,180 --> 00:02:01,750
Clematis spills across the top
like lace, and a delicate spray
24
00:02:01,760 --> 00:02:04,480
of honeysuckle drapes from one
side.
25
00:02:05,410 --> 00:02:10,100
The hinges Creek a little as I
push it open, but it moves
26
00:02:10,110 --> 00:02:15,080
easily as it welcomes guests
daily in a steady rhythm.
27
00:02:16,190 --> 00:02:21,400
And then I'm inside.
The garden opens before me like
28
00:02:21,410 --> 00:02:27,860
a quilt being expertly placed on
a bed, floating down even on all
29
00:02:27,870 --> 00:02:32,700
sides.
My eyes sweep across a patchwork
30
00:02:32,710 --> 00:02:37,300
of colour and texture that
immediately steals every other
31
00:02:37,310 --> 00:02:42,850
thought from my mind.
I feel a thrill, like something
32
00:02:42,860 --> 00:02:47,690
out of the story I read long ago
and many times since.
33
00:02:48,200 --> 00:02:53,090
The one with the hidden door and
The Secret Garden that healed
34
00:02:53,100 --> 00:02:58,180
more than just an ailing body.
This place feels like that.
35
00:02:59,640 --> 00:03:03,230
Just inside the gate is a fork
in the path.
36
00:03:04,020 --> 00:03:09,650
I naturally choose the right
winding slowly past tall stands
37
00:03:09,660 --> 00:03:15,500
of delphinium and Spires of
lupins, turning to seed the
38
00:03:15,510 --> 00:03:20,780
brighter pinks of Echinacea and
the buttery yellow faces of
39
00:03:20,790 --> 00:03:24,920
coreopsis.
Taking over the job of adding
40
00:03:24,930 --> 00:03:31,060
more colour, the garden offers
delight in every square inch.
41
00:03:31,790 --> 00:03:36,300
Some beds are carefully edged.
They're shapes, neat and
42
00:03:36,310 --> 00:03:40,930
bordered with bricks.
Others spill over into each
43
00:03:40,940 --> 00:03:46,410
other, green and perfectly
unruly, as though no one is
44
00:03:46,420 --> 00:03:49,060
guiding them where they were
meant to stop.
45
00:03:50,510 --> 00:03:54,140
Bees hover in and out of
lavender Tufts.
46
00:03:54,610 --> 00:03:59,360
I catch the soft flicker of
butterflies, monarchs and
47
00:03:59,370 --> 00:04:04,170
swallow, tails drifting through
the air like floating petals.
48
00:04:05,710 --> 00:04:10,640
A Robin hops ahead of me, eyeing
the earth with practised
49
00:04:10,650 --> 00:04:16,800
patience, then darts off into a
nearby Azalea as orange as an
50
00:04:16,810 --> 00:04:21,940
autumn pumpkin.
Further on, the garden changes.
51
00:04:22,410 --> 00:04:28,600
The path narrows, gravel giving
way to soft earth as trees rise
52
00:04:28,610 --> 00:04:34,220
up on either side, apple and
cherry, their branches heavy
53
00:04:34,230 --> 00:04:37,480
with green leaves and the
promise of fruit.
54
00:04:38,690 --> 00:04:44,220
Here, ferns unfurl in the shade
beneath them and wild violets
55
00:04:44,230 --> 00:04:49,010
carpet the ground.
It feels quieter, more private.
56
00:04:49,080 --> 00:04:53,150
Back here.
I catch glimpses of seating
57
00:04:53,160 --> 00:04:58,450
tucked into little alcoves and
iron bench beneath climbing
58
00:04:58,460 --> 00:05:03,250
roses, a swing hanging from a
thick old Maple.
59
00:05:03,920 --> 00:05:09,250
I imagine curling up with a book
there, or closing my eyes and
60
00:05:09,260 --> 00:05:14,480
just listening.
At a curve in the path I find a
61
00:05:14,490 --> 00:05:18,510
circular lawn with a stone
fountain at its centre.
62
00:05:19,300 --> 00:05:23,190
The sound of trickling water is
soft and soothing.
63
00:05:23,900 --> 00:05:28,570
I'm thankful for the huge
property this place has procured
64
00:05:28,840 --> 00:05:34,480
to house all of this beauty.
Around the edge, white painted
65
00:05:34,490 --> 00:05:37,790
chairs are set out in varying
numbers.
66
00:05:38,630 --> 00:05:44,120
The grass here is trimmed close
and neat, bordered with low
67
00:05:44,130 --> 00:05:47,360
growing time that releases its
scent.
68
00:05:47,430 --> 00:05:53,150
As I brush it with my toes, I
wander on deeper into the
69
00:05:53,160 --> 00:05:56,650
garden.
It's larger than I remember,
70
00:05:56,860 --> 00:06:00,960
full of corners and turns that
make it feel endless.
71
00:06:02,180 --> 00:06:07,450
Around 1 bend, the landscape
softens into wildness again.
72
00:06:08,260 --> 00:06:14,040
A tiny stream winds through,
flanked by tall grasses and Blue
73
00:06:14,050 --> 00:06:19,120
Flag iris.
Dragonflies skim the surface of
74
00:06:19,130 --> 00:06:23,630
the water, their wings catching
the sunlight like plates of
75
00:06:23,640 --> 00:06:27,070
glass.
A little bridge crosses the
76
00:06:27,080 --> 00:06:32,100
stream, just wide enough for one
on the other side.
77
00:06:32,110 --> 00:06:36,890
The ground rises slightly and
the path becomes mulched with
78
00:06:36,900 --> 00:06:40,430
cedar.
The scent is rich and earthy.
79
00:06:41,530 --> 00:06:47,060
I climb a few shallow stone
steps and come out on to a broad
80
00:06:47,130 --> 00:06:52,850
terrace paved in red brick.
It's set with white lounge
81
00:06:52,860 --> 00:06:58,510
chairs and low tables arranged
just so to catch the sun as it
82
00:06:58,520 --> 00:07:04,280
moves across the sky.
A wisteria vine sprawls above on
83
00:07:04,290 --> 00:07:08,900
a wooden trellis, casting
filtered shade in nature's
84
00:07:08,910 --> 00:07:12,850
patterns.
Just then, I hear the soft
85
00:07:12,860 --> 00:07:18,330
crunch of footsteps behind me.
I turn, and someone in a pale
86
00:07:18,340 --> 00:07:22,580
apron smiles kindly, offering me
a choice.
87
00:07:22,900 --> 00:07:27,510
Tea or coffee?
Tea is what I decide, and a
88
00:07:27,520 --> 00:07:33,070
delicate porcelain cup is placed
on the table beside me, along
89
00:07:33,080 --> 00:07:36,670
with a small saucer bearing a
short bread biscuit.
90
00:07:37,400 --> 00:07:41,160
The steam curls upward into the
afternoon air.
91
00:07:42,240 --> 00:07:47,210
I sit back in the chair and
cradle the warm cup in my hands.
92
00:07:48,190 --> 00:07:54,130
The garden sprawls before me,
sunlit and serene, alive with
93
00:07:54,140 --> 00:07:59,100
subtle movement.
I sip slowly, noting that this
94
00:07:59,110 --> 00:08:04,030
is what peace feels like.
For a long time, I sit in
95
00:08:04,040 --> 00:08:07,870
silence.
The wind stirs the leaves and
96
00:08:07,880 --> 00:08:12,040
birds flit through the hedges
with chirps and trills.
97
00:08:13,240 --> 00:08:18,090
Somewhere behind me I hear the
clink of dishes being cleared,
98
00:08:18,500 --> 00:08:23,530
but I stay still.
There's no rush here, no ticking
99
00:08:23,540 --> 00:08:27,030
clock.
My weekend decisions will
100
00:08:27,040 --> 00:08:32,789
consist of which spot to sit in
the gardens, which book to read
101
00:08:32,799 --> 00:08:37,770
or to have sit on my lap while I
absorb the colours and smells
102
00:08:37,780 --> 00:08:42,850
around me.
Eventually, I rise and continue
103
00:08:42,860 --> 00:08:47,140
walking.
There's a pergola ahead, shaded
104
00:08:47,150 --> 00:08:52,240
with Grapevine, and beyond it I
glimpse another seating area
105
00:08:52,300 --> 00:08:57,760
ringed with hydrangeas the size
of my head, blooming in Blues
106
00:08:57,770 --> 00:09:03,290
and soft greens.
I'm not ready to go back inside.
107
00:09:03,360 --> 00:09:07,780
Not yet.
I think of that old story again,
108
00:09:08,170 --> 00:09:12,820
the walled garden that brought a
grieving child back to life,
109
00:09:12,870 --> 00:09:17,900
breath by breath.
There is something timeless in
110
00:09:17,910 --> 00:09:25,010
that idea that nature offers
beauty, care and stillness, that
111
00:09:25,020 --> 00:09:29,920
nature doesn't rush.
I'm reminded too, that we
112
00:09:29,930 --> 00:09:35,360
ourselves are part of nature,
that we can live as gently as
113
00:09:35,370 --> 00:09:47,820
the flowers around us.
Secret Garden I'm spending the
114
00:09:47,830 --> 00:09:53,420
weekend at The Secret Garden Bed
and Breakfast, a vacation in my
115
00:09:53,430 --> 00:09:58,090
own village that I've started to
take every summer around this
116
00:09:58,100 --> 00:10:02,470
time.
The air is sweet with the soft
117
00:10:02,480 --> 00:10:07,290
perfume of things blooming that
have yet to show themselves to
118
00:10:07,300 --> 00:10:11,450
me.
The door clicks shut behind me,
119
00:10:11,500 --> 00:10:16,750
and for a moment I pause on the
step, letting the quiet wrap
120
00:10:16,760 --> 00:10:21,200
around me.
I'm not even in the main garden
121
00:10:21,210 --> 00:10:27,080
yet, and I'm still surrounded by
lush greens of all shades and
122
00:10:27,090 --> 00:10:30,320
deep Reds of small Japanese
maples.
123
00:10:31,510 --> 00:10:36,780
Moving forward, my shoes tap
lightly on the flagstone path
124
00:10:37,090 --> 00:10:42,860
drawn down a short walk away,
hemmed in by foxglove and ladies
125
00:10:42,870 --> 00:10:45,840
mantle.
Then I see it.
126
00:10:46,370 --> 00:10:51,960
A charming old thing of wrought
iron, softened by vines that
127
00:10:51,970 --> 00:10:56,960
weave their way through the
slats and curly cues, their tiny
128
00:10:56,970 --> 00:11:02,880
white blossoms spaced perfectly
amongst the leaves, almost fully
129
00:11:02,890 --> 00:11:08,360
covering the gate.
Clematis spills across the top
130
00:11:08,370 --> 00:11:13,360
like lace, and a delicate spray
of honeysuckle drapes from one
131
00:11:13,370 --> 00:11:17,190
side.
The hinges Creek a little as I
132
00:11:17,200 --> 00:11:22,470
push it open, but it moves
easily as it welcomes guests
133
00:11:22,480 --> 00:11:27,580
daily in a steady rhythm.
And then I'm inside.
134
00:11:28,380 --> 00:11:33,650
The garden opens before me like
a quilt being expertly placed on
135
00:11:33,660 --> 00:11:38,030
a bed, floating down even on all
sides.
136
00:11:39,140 --> 00:11:44,450
My eyes sweep across a patchwork
of colour and texture that
137
00:11:44,460 --> 00:11:48,470
immediately steals every other
thought from my mind.
138
00:11:49,420 --> 00:11:54,990
I feel a thrill, like something
out of the story I read long ago
139
00:11:55,240 --> 00:12:00,190
and many times since.
The one with the hidden door and
140
00:12:00,200 --> 00:12:05,100
The Secret Garden that healed
more than just an ailing body.
141
00:12:05,420 --> 00:12:11,840
This place feels like that.
Just inside the gate is a fork
142
00:12:11,850 --> 00:12:15,580
in the path.
I naturally choose the right
143
00:12:15,970 --> 00:12:21,700
winding slowly past tall stands
of delphinium and Spires of
144
00:12:21,710 --> 00:12:27,800
lupins, turning to seed the
brighter pinks of Echinacea and
145
00:12:27,810 --> 00:12:31,580
the buttery yellow faces of
coreopsis.
146
00:12:31,850 --> 00:12:37,920
Taking over the job of adding
more colour, the garden offers
147
00:12:37,930 --> 00:12:43,670
delight in every square inch.
Some beds are carefully edged.
148
00:12:43,960 --> 00:12:47,140
They're shapes, neat and
bordered with bricks.
149
00:12:48,050 --> 00:12:52,940
Others spill over into each
other, green and perfectly
150
00:12:52,950 --> 00:12:57,440
unruly, as though no one is
guiding them where they were
151
00:12:57,450 --> 00:13:02,230
meant to stop.
Bees hover in and out of
152
00:13:02,240 --> 00:13:06,270
lavender Tufts.
I catch the soft flicker of
153
00:13:06,280 --> 00:13:11,270
butterflies, monarchs and
swallow, tails drifting through
154
00:13:11,280 --> 00:13:18,250
the air like floating petals.
A Robin hops ahead of me, eyeing
155
00:13:18,260 --> 00:13:23,230
the earth with practised
patience, then darts off into a
156
00:13:23,240 --> 00:13:27,490
nearby Azalea as orange as an
autumn pumpkin.
157
00:13:28,760 --> 00:13:34,750
Further on, the garden changes.
The path narrows, gravel giving
158
00:13:34,760 --> 00:13:41,220
way to soft earth as trees rise
up on either side, apple and
159
00:13:41,230 --> 00:13:45,480
cherry, their branches heavy
with green leaves and the
160
00:13:45,490 --> 00:13:50,880
promise of fruit.
Here, ferns unfurl in the shade
161
00:13:50,890 --> 00:13:54,890
beneath them and wild violets
carpet the ground.
162
00:13:55,800 --> 00:13:59,190
It feels quieter, more private.
Back here.
163
00:14:00,220 --> 00:14:05,650
I catch glimpses of seating
tucked into little alcoves and
164
00:14:05,660 --> 00:14:10,950
iron bench beneath climbing
roses, a swing hanging from a
165
00:14:10,960 --> 00:14:15,870
thick old Maple.
I imagine curling up with a book
166
00:14:15,880 --> 00:14:19,740
there, or closing my eyes and
just listening.
167
00:14:21,190 --> 00:14:26,200
At a curve in the path I find a
circular lawn with a stone
168
00:14:26,210 --> 00:14:31,030
fountain at its centre.
The sound of trickling water is
169
00:14:31,040 --> 00:14:35,270
soft and soothing.
I'm thankful for the huge
170
00:14:35,280 --> 00:14:40,420
property this place has procured
to house all of this beauty.
171
00:14:41,610 --> 00:14:46,540
Around the edge, white painted
chairs are set out in varying
172
00:14:46,550 --> 00:14:50,940
numbers.
The grass here is trimmed close
173
00:14:50,950 --> 00:14:56,150
and neat, bordered with low
growing time that releases its
174
00:14:56,160 --> 00:15:00,370
scent.
As I brush it with my toes, I
175
00:15:00,380 --> 00:15:03,190
wander on deeper into the
garden.
176
00:15:03,620 --> 00:15:08,690
It's larger than I remember,
full of corners and turns that
177
00:15:08,700 --> 00:15:14,340
make it feel endless.
Around 1 bend, the landscape
178
00:15:14,350 --> 00:15:20,120
softens into wildness again.
A tiny stream winds through,
179
00:15:20,310 --> 00:15:24,760
flanked by tall grasses and Blue
Flag iris.
180
00:15:25,680 --> 00:15:31,110
Dragonflies skim the surface of
the water, their wings catching
181
00:15:31,120 --> 00:15:33,640
the sunlight like plates of
glass.
182
00:15:34,670 --> 00:15:39,370
A little bridge crosses the
stream, just wide enough for one
183
00:15:40,230 --> 00:15:44,140
on the other side.
The ground rises slightly and
184
00:15:44,150 --> 00:15:47,040
the path becomes mulched with
cedar.
185
00:15:47,530 --> 00:15:53,280
The scent is rich and earthy.
I climb a few shallow stone
186
00:15:53,290 --> 00:15:59,140
steps and come out on to a broad
terrace paved in red brick.
187
00:16:00,250 --> 00:16:05,430
It's set with white lounge
chairs and low tables arranged
188
00:16:05,440 --> 00:16:09,580
just so to catch the sun as it
moves across the sky.
189
00:16:10,730 --> 00:16:16,120
A wisteria vine sprawls above on
a wooden trellis, casting
190
00:16:16,130 --> 00:16:19,020
filtered shade in nature's
patterns.
191
00:16:20,310 --> 00:16:24,920
Just then, I hear the soft
crunch of footsteps behind me.
192
00:16:25,290 --> 00:16:31,140
I turn, and someone in a pale
apron smiles kindly, offering me
193
00:16:31,150 --> 00:16:33,670
a choice.
Tea or coffee?
194
00:16:34,510 --> 00:16:39,560
Tea is what I decide, and a
delicate porcelain cup is placed
195
00:16:39,570 --> 00:16:44,440
on the table beside me, along
with a small saucer bearing a
196
00:16:44,450 --> 00:16:49,220
short bread biscuit.
The steam curls upward into the
197
00:16:49,230 --> 00:16:54,030
afternoon air.
I sit back in the chair and
198
00:16:54,040 --> 00:17:00,130
cradle the warm cup in my hands.
The garden sprawls before me,
199
00:17:00,170 --> 00:17:04,609
sunlit and serene, alive with
subtle movement.
200
00:17:05,470 --> 00:17:10,270
I sip slowly, noting that this
is what peace feels like.
201
00:17:11,270 --> 00:17:14,300
For a long time, I sit in
silence.
202
00:17:14,680 --> 00:17:19,420
The wind stirs the leaves and
birds flit through the hedges
203
00:17:19,430 --> 00:17:25,040
with chirps and trills.
Somewhere behind me I hear the
204
00:17:25,050 --> 00:17:29,700
clink of dishes being cleared,
but I stay still.
205
00:17:30,230 --> 00:17:33,490
There's no rush here, no ticking
clock.
206
00:17:34,320 --> 00:17:39,420
My weekend decisions will
consist of which spot to sit in
207
00:17:39,430 --> 00:17:44,830
the gardens, which book to read
or to have sit on my lap while I
208
00:17:44,840 --> 00:17:48,010
absorb the colours and smells
around me.
209
00:17:49,220 --> 00:17:52,900
Eventually, I rise and continue
walking.
210
00:17:53,650 --> 00:17:59,320
There's a pergola ahead, shaded
with Grapevine, and beyond it I
211
00:17:59,330 --> 00:18:04,280
glimpse another seating area
ringed with hydrangeas the size
212
00:18:04,290 --> 00:18:08,430
of my head, blooming in Blues
and soft greens.
213
00:18:09,810 --> 00:18:13,530
I'm not ready to go back inside.
Not yet.
214
00:18:14,550 --> 00:18:19,680
I think of that old story again,
the walled garden that brought a
215
00:18:19,690 --> 00:18:23,670
grieving child back to life,
breath by breath.
216
00:18:25,010 --> 00:18:30,480
There is something timeless in
that idea that nature offers
217
00:18:30,490 --> 00:18:36,030
beauty, care and stillness, that
nature doesn't rush.
218
00:18:36,820 --> 00:18:41,940
I'm reminded too, that we
ourselves are part of nature,
219
00:18:42,280 --> 00:18:46,710
that we can live as gently as
the flowers around us.
220
00:18:48,930 --> 00:18:51,180
I wish you sweet dreams.
00:00:01,980 --> 00:00:07,590
Welcome to The Slow Life, a
village filled with cozy stories
2
00:00:07,600 --> 00:00:12,790
for everyone.
I'll read this story 2 times to
3
00:00:12,800 --> 00:00:17,490
help you zone out or even fall
asleep during the second
4
00:00:17,500 --> 00:00:22,520
reading.
This story is called Secret
5
00:00:22,530 --> 00:00:27,200
Garden and it's about spending
the weekend at a bed and
6
00:00:27,210 --> 00:00:33,260
breakfast, natures reminders and
the way it can be perfectly
7
00:00:33,310 --> 00:00:39,610
unruly.
I'm spending the weekend at The
8
00:00:39,620 --> 00:00:45,200
Secret Garden Bed and Breakfast,
a vacation in my own village
9
00:00:45,460 --> 00:00:49,330
that I've started to take every
summer around this time.
10
00:00:50,610 --> 00:00:55,760
The air is sweet with the soft
perfume of things blooming that
11
00:00:55,770 --> 00:00:58,200
have yet to show themselves to
me.
12
00:00:59,450 --> 00:01:04,580
The door clicks shut behind me,
and for a moment I pause on the
13
00:01:04,590 --> 00:01:08,160
step, letting the quiet wrap
around me.
14
00:01:09,570 --> 00:01:14,640
I'm not even in the main garden
yet, and I'm still surrounded by
15
00:01:14,650 --> 00:01:20,180
lush greens of all shades and
deep Reds of small Japanese
16
00:01:20,190 --> 00:01:24,780
maples.
Moving forward, my shoes tap
17
00:01:24,790 --> 00:01:30,140
lightly on the flagstone path
drawn down a short walkway
18
00:01:30,220 --> 00:01:34,000
hemmed in by foxglove and ladies
mantle.
19
00:01:35,070 --> 00:01:39,400
Then I see it.
A charming old thing of wrought
20
00:01:39,410 --> 00:01:44,200
iron, softened by vines that
weave their way through the
21
00:01:44,210 --> 00:01:50,340
slats and curly cues, their tiny
white blossoms spaced perfectly
22
00:01:50,350 --> 00:01:54,820
amongst the leaves, almost fully
covering the gate.
23
00:01:56,180 --> 00:02:01,750
Clematis spills across the top
like lace, and a delicate spray
24
00:02:01,760 --> 00:02:04,480
of honeysuckle drapes from one
side.
25
00:02:05,410 --> 00:02:10,100
The hinges Creek a little as I
push it open, but it moves
26
00:02:10,110 --> 00:02:15,080
easily as it welcomes guests
daily in a steady rhythm.
27
00:02:16,190 --> 00:02:21,400
And then I'm inside.
The garden opens before me like
28
00:02:21,410 --> 00:02:27,860
a quilt being expertly placed on
a bed, floating down even on all
29
00:02:27,870 --> 00:02:32,700
sides.
My eyes sweep across a patchwork
30
00:02:32,710 --> 00:02:37,300
of colour and texture that
immediately steals every other
31
00:02:37,310 --> 00:02:42,850
thought from my mind.
I feel a thrill, like something
32
00:02:42,860 --> 00:02:47,690
out of the story I read long ago
and many times since.
33
00:02:48,200 --> 00:02:53,090
The one with the hidden door and
The Secret Garden that healed
34
00:02:53,100 --> 00:02:58,180
more than just an ailing body.
This place feels like that.
35
00:02:59,640 --> 00:03:03,230
Just inside the gate is a fork
in the path.
36
00:03:04,020 --> 00:03:09,650
I naturally choose the right
winding slowly past tall stands
37
00:03:09,660 --> 00:03:15,500
of delphinium and Spires of
lupins, turning to seed the
38
00:03:15,510 --> 00:03:20,780
brighter pinks of Echinacea and
the buttery yellow faces of
39
00:03:20,790 --> 00:03:24,920
coreopsis.
Taking over the job of adding
40
00:03:24,930 --> 00:03:31,060
more colour, the garden offers
delight in every square inch.
41
00:03:31,790 --> 00:03:36,300
Some beds are carefully edged.
They're shapes, neat and
42
00:03:36,310 --> 00:03:40,930
bordered with bricks.
Others spill over into each
43
00:03:40,940 --> 00:03:46,410
other, green and perfectly
unruly, as though no one is
44
00:03:46,420 --> 00:03:49,060
guiding them where they were
meant to stop.
45
00:03:50,510 --> 00:03:54,140
Bees hover in and out of
lavender Tufts.
46
00:03:54,610 --> 00:03:59,360
I catch the soft flicker of
butterflies, monarchs and
47
00:03:59,370 --> 00:04:04,170
swallow, tails drifting through
the air like floating petals.
48
00:04:05,710 --> 00:04:10,640
A Robin hops ahead of me, eyeing
the earth with practised
49
00:04:10,650 --> 00:04:16,800
patience, then darts off into a
nearby Azalea as orange as an
50
00:04:16,810 --> 00:04:21,940
autumn pumpkin.
Further on, the garden changes.
51
00:04:22,410 --> 00:04:28,600
The path narrows, gravel giving
way to soft earth as trees rise
52
00:04:28,610 --> 00:04:34,220
up on either side, apple and
cherry, their branches heavy
53
00:04:34,230 --> 00:04:37,480
with green leaves and the
promise of fruit.
54
00:04:38,690 --> 00:04:44,220
Here, ferns unfurl in the shade
beneath them and wild violets
55
00:04:44,230 --> 00:04:49,010
carpet the ground.
It feels quieter, more private.
56
00:04:49,080 --> 00:04:53,150
Back here.
I catch glimpses of seating
57
00:04:53,160 --> 00:04:58,450
tucked into little alcoves and
iron bench beneath climbing
58
00:04:58,460 --> 00:05:03,250
roses, a swing hanging from a
thick old Maple.
59
00:05:03,920 --> 00:05:09,250
I imagine curling up with a book
there, or closing my eyes and
60
00:05:09,260 --> 00:05:14,480
just listening.
At a curve in the path I find a
61
00:05:14,490 --> 00:05:18,510
circular lawn with a stone
fountain at its centre.
62
00:05:19,300 --> 00:05:23,190
The sound of trickling water is
soft and soothing.
63
00:05:23,900 --> 00:05:28,570
I'm thankful for the huge
property this place has procured
64
00:05:28,840 --> 00:05:34,480
to house all of this beauty.
Around the edge, white painted
65
00:05:34,490 --> 00:05:37,790
chairs are set out in varying
numbers.
66
00:05:38,630 --> 00:05:44,120
The grass here is trimmed close
and neat, bordered with low
67
00:05:44,130 --> 00:05:47,360
growing time that releases its
scent.
68
00:05:47,430 --> 00:05:53,150
As I brush it with my toes, I
wander on deeper into the
69
00:05:53,160 --> 00:05:56,650
garden.
It's larger than I remember,
70
00:05:56,860 --> 00:06:00,960
full of corners and turns that
make it feel endless.
71
00:06:02,180 --> 00:06:07,450
Around 1 bend, the landscape
softens into wildness again.
72
00:06:08,260 --> 00:06:14,040
A tiny stream winds through,
flanked by tall grasses and Blue
73
00:06:14,050 --> 00:06:19,120
Flag iris.
Dragonflies skim the surface of
74
00:06:19,130 --> 00:06:23,630
the water, their wings catching
the sunlight like plates of
75
00:06:23,640 --> 00:06:27,070
glass.
A little bridge crosses the
76
00:06:27,080 --> 00:06:32,100
stream, just wide enough for one
on the other side.
77
00:06:32,110 --> 00:06:36,890
The ground rises slightly and
the path becomes mulched with
78
00:06:36,900 --> 00:06:40,430
cedar.
The scent is rich and earthy.
79
00:06:41,530 --> 00:06:47,060
I climb a few shallow stone
steps and come out on to a broad
80
00:06:47,130 --> 00:06:52,850
terrace paved in red brick.
It's set with white lounge
81
00:06:52,860 --> 00:06:58,510
chairs and low tables arranged
just so to catch the sun as it
82
00:06:58,520 --> 00:07:04,280
moves across the sky.
A wisteria vine sprawls above on
83
00:07:04,290 --> 00:07:08,900
a wooden trellis, casting
filtered shade in nature's
84
00:07:08,910 --> 00:07:12,850
patterns.
Just then, I hear the soft
85
00:07:12,860 --> 00:07:18,330
crunch of footsteps behind me.
I turn, and someone in a pale
86
00:07:18,340 --> 00:07:22,580
apron smiles kindly, offering me
a choice.
87
00:07:22,900 --> 00:07:27,510
Tea or coffee?
Tea is what I decide, and a
88
00:07:27,520 --> 00:07:33,070
delicate porcelain cup is placed
on the table beside me, along
89
00:07:33,080 --> 00:07:36,670
with a small saucer bearing a
short bread biscuit.
90
00:07:37,400 --> 00:07:41,160
The steam curls upward into the
afternoon air.
91
00:07:42,240 --> 00:07:47,210
I sit back in the chair and
cradle the warm cup in my hands.
92
00:07:48,190 --> 00:07:54,130
The garden sprawls before me,
sunlit and serene, alive with
93
00:07:54,140 --> 00:07:59,100
subtle movement.
I sip slowly, noting that this
94
00:07:59,110 --> 00:08:04,030
is what peace feels like.
For a long time, I sit in
95
00:08:04,040 --> 00:08:07,870
silence.
The wind stirs the leaves and
96
00:08:07,880 --> 00:08:12,040
birds flit through the hedges
with chirps and trills.
97
00:08:13,240 --> 00:08:18,090
Somewhere behind me I hear the
clink of dishes being cleared,
98
00:08:18,500 --> 00:08:23,530
but I stay still.
There's no rush here, no ticking
99
00:08:23,540 --> 00:08:27,030
clock.
My weekend decisions will
100
00:08:27,040 --> 00:08:32,789
consist of which spot to sit in
the gardens, which book to read
101
00:08:32,799 --> 00:08:37,770
or to have sit on my lap while I
absorb the colours and smells
102
00:08:37,780 --> 00:08:42,850
around me.
Eventually, I rise and continue
103
00:08:42,860 --> 00:08:47,140
walking.
There's a pergola ahead, shaded
104
00:08:47,150 --> 00:08:52,240
with Grapevine, and beyond it I
glimpse another seating area
105
00:08:52,300 --> 00:08:57,760
ringed with hydrangeas the size
of my head, blooming in Blues
106
00:08:57,770 --> 00:09:03,290
and soft greens.
I'm not ready to go back inside.
107
00:09:03,360 --> 00:09:07,780
Not yet.
I think of that old story again,
108
00:09:08,170 --> 00:09:12,820
the walled garden that brought a
grieving child back to life,
109
00:09:12,870 --> 00:09:17,900
breath by breath.
There is something timeless in
110
00:09:17,910 --> 00:09:25,010
that idea that nature offers
beauty, care and stillness, that
111
00:09:25,020 --> 00:09:29,920
nature doesn't rush.
I'm reminded too, that we
112
00:09:29,930 --> 00:09:35,360
ourselves are part of nature,
that we can live as gently as
113
00:09:35,370 --> 00:09:47,820
the flowers around us.
Secret Garden I'm spending the
114
00:09:47,830 --> 00:09:53,420
weekend at The Secret Garden Bed
and Breakfast, a vacation in my
115
00:09:53,430 --> 00:09:58,090
own village that I've started to
take every summer around this
116
00:09:58,100 --> 00:10:02,470
time.
The air is sweet with the soft
117
00:10:02,480 --> 00:10:07,290
perfume of things blooming that
have yet to show themselves to
118
00:10:07,300 --> 00:10:11,450
me.
The door clicks shut behind me,
119
00:10:11,500 --> 00:10:16,750
and for a moment I pause on the
step, letting the quiet wrap
120
00:10:16,760 --> 00:10:21,200
around me.
I'm not even in the main garden
121
00:10:21,210 --> 00:10:27,080
yet, and I'm still surrounded by
lush greens of all shades and
122
00:10:27,090 --> 00:10:30,320
deep Reds of small Japanese
maples.
123
00:10:31,510 --> 00:10:36,780
Moving forward, my shoes tap
lightly on the flagstone path
124
00:10:37,090 --> 00:10:42,860
drawn down a short walk away,
hemmed in by foxglove and ladies
125
00:10:42,870 --> 00:10:45,840
mantle.
Then I see it.
126
00:10:46,370 --> 00:10:51,960
A charming old thing of wrought
iron, softened by vines that
127
00:10:51,970 --> 00:10:56,960
weave their way through the
slats and curly cues, their tiny
128
00:10:56,970 --> 00:11:02,880
white blossoms spaced perfectly
amongst the leaves, almost fully
129
00:11:02,890 --> 00:11:08,360
covering the gate.
Clematis spills across the top
130
00:11:08,370 --> 00:11:13,360
like lace, and a delicate spray
of honeysuckle drapes from one
131
00:11:13,370 --> 00:11:17,190
side.
The hinges Creek a little as I
132
00:11:17,200 --> 00:11:22,470
push it open, but it moves
easily as it welcomes guests
133
00:11:22,480 --> 00:11:27,580
daily in a steady rhythm.
And then I'm inside.
134
00:11:28,380 --> 00:11:33,650
The garden opens before me like
a quilt being expertly placed on
135
00:11:33,660 --> 00:11:38,030
a bed, floating down even on all
sides.
136
00:11:39,140 --> 00:11:44,450
My eyes sweep across a patchwork
of colour and texture that
137
00:11:44,460 --> 00:11:48,470
immediately steals every other
thought from my mind.
138
00:11:49,420 --> 00:11:54,990
I feel a thrill, like something
out of the story I read long ago
139
00:11:55,240 --> 00:12:00,190
and many times since.
The one with the hidden door and
140
00:12:00,200 --> 00:12:05,100
The Secret Garden that healed
more than just an ailing body.
141
00:12:05,420 --> 00:12:11,840
This place feels like that.
Just inside the gate is a fork
142
00:12:11,850 --> 00:12:15,580
in the path.
I naturally choose the right
143
00:12:15,970 --> 00:12:21,700
winding slowly past tall stands
of delphinium and Spires of
144
00:12:21,710 --> 00:12:27,800
lupins, turning to seed the
brighter pinks of Echinacea and
145
00:12:27,810 --> 00:12:31,580
the buttery yellow faces of
coreopsis.
146
00:12:31,850 --> 00:12:37,920
Taking over the job of adding
more colour, the garden offers
147
00:12:37,930 --> 00:12:43,670
delight in every square inch.
Some beds are carefully edged.
148
00:12:43,960 --> 00:12:47,140
They're shapes, neat and
bordered with bricks.
149
00:12:48,050 --> 00:12:52,940
Others spill over into each
other, green and perfectly
150
00:12:52,950 --> 00:12:57,440
unruly, as though no one is
guiding them where they were
151
00:12:57,450 --> 00:13:02,230
meant to stop.
Bees hover in and out of
152
00:13:02,240 --> 00:13:06,270
lavender Tufts.
I catch the soft flicker of
153
00:13:06,280 --> 00:13:11,270
butterflies, monarchs and
swallow, tails drifting through
154
00:13:11,280 --> 00:13:18,250
the air like floating petals.
A Robin hops ahead of me, eyeing
155
00:13:18,260 --> 00:13:23,230
the earth with practised
patience, then darts off into a
156
00:13:23,240 --> 00:13:27,490
nearby Azalea as orange as an
autumn pumpkin.
157
00:13:28,760 --> 00:13:34,750
Further on, the garden changes.
The path narrows, gravel giving
158
00:13:34,760 --> 00:13:41,220
way to soft earth as trees rise
up on either side, apple and
159
00:13:41,230 --> 00:13:45,480
cherry, their branches heavy
with green leaves and the
160
00:13:45,490 --> 00:13:50,880
promise of fruit.
Here, ferns unfurl in the shade
161
00:13:50,890 --> 00:13:54,890
beneath them and wild violets
carpet the ground.
162
00:13:55,800 --> 00:13:59,190
It feels quieter, more private.
Back here.
163
00:14:00,220 --> 00:14:05,650
I catch glimpses of seating
tucked into little alcoves and
164
00:14:05,660 --> 00:14:10,950
iron bench beneath climbing
roses, a swing hanging from a
165
00:14:10,960 --> 00:14:15,870
thick old Maple.
I imagine curling up with a book
166
00:14:15,880 --> 00:14:19,740
there, or closing my eyes and
just listening.
167
00:14:21,190 --> 00:14:26,200
At a curve in the path I find a
circular lawn with a stone
168
00:14:26,210 --> 00:14:31,030
fountain at its centre.
The sound of trickling water is
169
00:14:31,040 --> 00:14:35,270
soft and soothing.
I'm thankful for the huge
170
00:14:35,280 --> 00:14:40,420
property this place has procured
to house all of this beauty.
171
00:14:41,610 --> 00:14:46,540
Around the edge, white painted
chairs are set out in varying
172
00:14:46,550 --> 00:14:50,940
numbers.
The grass here is trimmed close
173
00:14:50,950 --> 00:14:56,150
and neat, bordered with low
growing time that releases its
174
00:14:56,160 --> 00:15:00,370
scent.
As I brush it with my toes, I
175
00:15:00,380 --> 00:15:03,190
wander on deeper into the
garden.
176
00:15:03,620 --> 00:15:08,690
It's larger than I remember,
full of corners and turns that
177
00:15:08,700 --> 00:15:14,340
make it feel endless.
Around 1 bend, the landscape
178
00:15:14,350 --> 00:15:20,120
softens into wildness again.
A tiny stream winds through,
179
00:15:20,310 --> 00:15:24,760
flanked by tall grasses and Blue
Flag iris.
180
00:15:25,680 --> 00:15:31,110
Dragonflies skim the surface of
the water, their wings catching
181
00:15:31,120 --> 00:15:33,640
the sunlight like plates of
glass.
182
00:15:34,670 --> 00:15:39,370
A little bridge crosses the
stream, just wide enough for one
183
00:15:40,230 --> 00:15:44,140
on the other side.
The ground rises slightly and
184
00:15:44,150 --> 00:15:47,040
the path becomes mulched with
cedar.
185
00:15:47,530 --> 00:15:53,280
The scent is rich and earthy.
I climb a few shallow stone
186
00:15:53,290 --> 00:15:59,140
steps and come out on to a broad
terrace paved in red brick.
187
00:16:00,250 --> 00:16:05,430
It's set with white lounge
chairs and low tables arranged
188
00:16:05,440 --> 00:16:09,580
just so to catch the sun as it
moves across the sky.
189
00:16:10,730 --> 00:16:16,120
A wisteria vine sprawls above on
a wooden trellis, casting
190
00:16:16,130 --> 00:16:19,020
filtered shade in nature's
patterns.
191
00:16:20,310 --> 00:16:24,920
Just then, I hear the soft
crunch of footsteps behind me.
192
00:16:25,290 --> 00:16:31,140
I turn, and someone in a pale
apron smiles kindly, offering me
193
00:16:31,150 --> 00:16:33,670
a choice.
Tea or coffee?
194
00:16:34,510 --> 00:16:39,560
Tea is what I decide, and a
delicate porcelain cup is placed
195
00:16:39,570 --> 00:16:44,440
on the table beside me, along
with a small saucer bearing a
196
00:16:44,450 --> 00:16:49,220
short bread biscuit.
The steam curls upward into the
197
00:16:49,230 --> 00:16:54,030
afternoon air.
I sit back in the chair and
198
00:16:54,040 --> 00:17:00,130
cradle the warm cup in my hands.
The garden sprawls before me,
199
00:17:00,170 --> 00:17:04,609
sunlit and serene, alive with
subtle movement.
200
00:17:05,470 --> 00:17:10,270
I sip slowly, noting that this
is what peace feels like.
201
00:17:11,270 --> 00:17:14,300
For a long time, I sit in
silence.
202
00:17:14,680 --> 00:17:19,420
The wind stirs the leaves and
birds flit through the hedges
203
00:17:19,430 --> 00:17:25,040
with chirps and trills.
Somewhere behind me I hear the
204
00:17:25,050 --> 00:17:29,700
clink of dishes being cleared,
but I stay still.
205
00:17:30,230 --> 00:17:33,490
There's no rush here, no ticking
clock.
206
00:17:34,320 --> 00:17:39,420
My weekend decisions will
consist of which spot to sit in
207
00:17:39,430 --> 00:17:44,830
the gardens, which book to read
or to have sit on my lap while I
208
00:17:44,840 --> 00:17:48,010
absorb the colours and smells
around me.
209
00:17:49,220 --> 00:17:52,900
Eventually, I rise and continue
walking.
210
00:17:53,650 --> 00:17:59,320
There's a pergola ahead, shaded
with Grapevine, and beyond it I
211
00:17:59,330 --> 00:18:04,280
glimpse another seating area
ringed with hydrangeas the size
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of my head, blooming in Blues
and soft greens.
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I'm not ready to go back inside.
Not yet.
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00:18:14,550 --> 00:18:19,680
I think of that old story again,
the walled garden that brought a
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00:18:19,690 --> 00:18:23,670
grieving child back to life,
breath by breath.
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00:18:25,010 --> 00:18:30,480
There is something timeless in
that idea that nature offers
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00:18:30,490 --> 00:18:36,030
beauty, care and stillness, that
nature doesn't rush.
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00:18:36,820 --> 00:18:41,940
I'm reminded too, that we
ourselves are part of nature,
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that we can live as gently as
the flowers around us.
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00:18:48,930 --> 00:18:51,180
I wish you sweet dreams.
