Droplets of rain gently fall from the moody, grey clouds above me. I'm not at all surprised, as I stand in the middle of my garden wearing my tired old walking boots, one foot on my fork. It is weather I have come to expect during our typical British summertime. If I'm lucky I might get a burst of sunshine that will explode in between downpours, and then I will be treated to a rainbow of colour that promises me brighter days ahead.
The rain doesn't spoil my mood as I continue to work in my garden, taking shelter briefly behind the glass doors of my cosy summerhouse. I feel like I could sit there for the rest of the afternoon, quietly watching the glistening liquid drops rippling into the abandoned paddling pool. The ripples mesmerise me and I feel myself relaxing to the sound of a wood pigeon. I'm guessing the gentle coo belongs to one of the many birds that nest inside my huge Eucalyptus tree that dominates the bottom of my garden.
The woodland part of my garden always seems to look better when it has rained, the colours are more vibrant. Deep reds, greens and browns invite me in. I take a deep breath and inhale the woody, earthy aroma that fills my senses and provides me with a natural calm. Nature's fragrance at it's best. I wish I could bottle it.
I wander back up the garden and admire my many geraniums. They are one of my favourites, just like they were for Grandad. I picture him, standing in his garden, hands in his trouser pockets, thick black hair, rosy cheeks and a beaming smile. My Grandad certainly loved his geraniums, their scent makes me think of him and he is the reason I have so many in my garden.
I miss Grandad and his strong Southern Irish accent, his brogue so raw it was sometimes difficult to understand. I would sit and nod at parts of his conversation that I couldn't translate. I loved the rhythms of his voice, he sounded almost musical as he spoke of his youth growing up on the family farm and his many tales of nature from his beloved homeland. I would look into his warm, gentle face and feel so loved by him. I was so in awe of him. My lovely Irish Grandad who loved every one of his many Grandchildren in equal measures.