Reserved in demeanor and sparing with speech, I sit in my walled garden. Surrounded by stone walls lined with spikes, the only entrance a single iron bound door with no handle or knob. The interior is covered in ivy. A meandering path lined with a hedgerow on the left and a small bubbling brook to the right, willow and hawthorn lining its far bank. Birds calling to each other filling the air. At the end of the path a small sand garden, patterned in a spiral. Small spires of feldspar reaching for the open sky dot the sand in an array that lays right at the border of order and chaos. A stone bench sits next to brooks end. Koi Dancing in the pond. Welcome to my garden. There is darkness here, in the hedgerow maze, secrets to discover. Delights to be shared and journey to be taken. Push the door in, for all of it’s austerity, there are wonders within.