These hearts where shadows and lights of a fine summer’s day quiver : our secret garden. From our window sill we plunge into this coloured multitude where blossom perfumes evoke to the being the dawn of the soul.
What more concentrated expression of lives is there than that of a flower ? Delicate, subtle, fragile, it resonates with colours, from the most tender to the most lively. The ephemeral instant of their presence recalls to us, on the cosmic scale, our lightning passage.
In their image, let us germinate, grow, open up, be fragrant. Let us give without receiving in return, for the wind or the bird will carry our most beautiful seeds to other lands… or our garden.