Life in the Garden.
Crash, bang and the noise could be heard for several miles,
the potting shed was just a pile of planks of wood and shattered flowerpots and
earth. Rodger the small gardener wriggled free from one of the planks and
dusted down his leather apron. ‘Bother, bother, and bother again!’ he said to
himself.
There was a bright light, a sound like a firework going off
and into the garden, through the flash of light came Ashley, she was not
pleased, but nothing could really make her cross, she was charm and calm
itself.
‘What’s happened here Rodger?’ she asked.
‘I’m very sorry Ashley but I was trying to put some more nails
into the back of the shed, and I was standing on a piece of wood that was
jutting out and all of a sudden it broke, the whole shed went down and left me
at the bottom’.
‘Are you hurt at all?’ asked Ashley.
‘It’s only my pride’ smiled Rodger.
Ashley took out a small pad of paper and a pencil from her
pocket, she was a lovely looking young women, long blond hair and clear blue
eyes and moved with all the grace you would imaging such a person to have. She
walked around the pile of wood and what was now rubbish.
‘Now then, we shall need: wooden planks, main uprights, more
roofing material, nails, and a new door by the look of it, I think perhaps we
had better leave a note for the house owner?’
‘Is that wise?’ asked Rodger.
Ashley smiled and nodded and disappeared the same way she had
come, through a bright light which sounded like a ‘pop’.
Rodger started to pick up all the fallen pieces of the old
shed and checked each plank of wood for faults and then put the best wood on
one side and the broken pieces on the other side. He went off and came back
with a wheel barrow and finished clearing all the broken bits away and walked
down the garden and through an old door at the end.
The house owner was not of the same ‘tribe’ as the people who
came and went in the hidden garden, she was a ‘muggle’ but her dog Cellen was
very different, he was certainly a magical hound. But having actually met the
folks that came and went in the garden, and got over the shock, she never told
a soul, never whispered a word to anyone about the friends she went to share
cakes and wine with at the Full Moon. However as an artist, Claire was allowed
to sketch and paint in the garden and had produced some fine work which she
sold via her website and the income certainly helped with the upkeep of the
house.
Claire and the dog Cellen had been walking only a short while
when she spotted a note pinned to a tree and the dog started barking and jumped
up and down.
‘That’s got to be from one of your friends, it’s very unusual
I had better read it’ she said to Cellen and the dog made a noise which sounded
like ‘yuss’.
She opened the note and read it, this is what it said:
‘There has been a happening in the garden and the potting shed
is no longer! Rodger was not badly hurt but we need some help,
Blessings,
Ashley’
Knowing what she did of the folks who worked in the garden
Claire knew she needed to hurry, and that’s exactly what she did with Cellen
bounding on by her side back to the old hidden garden. They went in by the old
wooden door and closed it behind them, the greenery sprung back into place and
you would never have seen the door, had you been walking in the woods that day.
As soon as Claire walked into the garden there was a flash, a
pop and Ashley was in the garden walking towards her.
‘Thank you for coming, I don’t think we can sort all of this
out without some outside help’ said Ashley.
Then Rodger came walking up the garden from the far end,
looking a bit battered, but otherwise he seemed well enough.
‘It’s the old potting shed, I’m sorry to say that although its
stood for 150 years, it’s now fallen and we don’t have enough wood to replace
it,’ said Rodger.
‘That should not be too much of a problem, although I can’t
have anyone find this garden, I will need to have the wood delivered and we
will need to do the rest’, said Claire.
‘There is a carpenter in the village who would be safe, he
comes from an old family and he walks a healing path, his family have been
different from the others for generations and I think he would be safe enough
to work with. I will give you his name and address and I suggest you go and see
him face to face, he will understand.’ Ashley said.
So about half an hour later Claire was knocking on a door in
the village, at the home of the village carpenter. The door had celtic knotwork
carved into it, and the knocker was a green man, weathered with age. A middle
aged man came to the door and looked Claire up and down, then he stood aside
and simply said,
‘You had better come in and tell me what you are here for’.
Claire cleared her throat and wished her mouth had not
suddenly dried up…..’I understand that you can be trusted not to repeat
anything you hear or talk about anything you may see while on a job?’
The carpenter stood still for a moment and then looked
knowingly at her ‘You are living in the house with the hidden garden aren’t
you? Under these circumstances it will be an honour to assist in any way I
can.’ he said and Claire nodded her head and handed him the list of things
Ashley had written down on the piece of paper. As he read the list, little
flowers started to appear around the edge of the paper and little curly lines,
stars and butterflies. The carpenter’s eyes lit up with pleasure and a smile
filled his face, ‘I have only once before had such a note and then I was a
small boy, but I never forgot the note or the people I once met when taking
some cut wood to the garden, I would be delighted to be of assistance and I can
cut this and bring it to the house tomorrow’.
‘Let me give you some money for the wood’ said Claire.
‘Certainly not’, said the carpenter, ‘I would not dream of
taking money for this, if I do a good job then I know good will come out of
it’.
And with that, they parted company, Claire walked back home
and the carpenter went into his yard and started to saw the wood, whistling all
the time a happy little song.
The next morning Cellen jumped onto Claire’s bed and nuzzled
her face lovingly, he kept doing it until she woke up, stretched and opened her
eyes.
The sun was streaming through the window and birds were
singing outside, you could hear cows calling in the fields, and some sheep but
everything else was quiet. No traffic, no radio’s, it was absolute bliss
thought Claire as she swung her legs over the side of her bed and stood up.
She let Cellen out into the grounds briefly and promised to
take him for a walk later that morning and she checked the back door step.
There, as usual was a brown earthenware bowl with the meat left for her very
special dog. It was left most mornings and she knew that was the only food her
very special hound was allowed to eat, that and any piece of food she herself
had already taken a bite out of. That was the arrangement between her and the
family who looked after the hidden garden, for it was them that provided the
food for her dog.
Bang, bang, bang went
the knocker on her front door a little while later and she went through the
house to open the door. There stood the carpenter and behind him a cart on
wheels piled high with cut planks of wood, he was wearing a clean shirt, trousers
and on his head a hat with a little feather tucked into the band.
‘I like your hat’ smiled Claire.
‘I’ve had this feather since I was a little boy, it was given
me by one of the folks that tends the garden here and I wouldn’t go anywhere
without it’, said the carpenter.
‘Can you bring the wood around the back and wait for a moment
while I put my shoes on and we can go straight down now’.
Cellen bounded up to the carpenter and put his paws onto the
man’s shoulders and gave his face a lick. ‘Hello to you too!’ said the
carpenter and gently lifted the dogs paws off his shoulders.
‘Be careful of my dog, he’s staying with me for a while, I don’t
own him, he belongs to those that work in the garden’.
The carpenter looked again at the dog and back to Claire, ‘Congratulations!
‘ he said.
‘I’m very grateful for the loan of Cellen, I don’t know what I
would do without him’ said Claire and the carpenter simply smiled and nodded.
As they walked down to the garden they talked of nothing
special, the weather, the comings and goings in the village, the price of a
pint of milk, village chitter chatter really.
As they approached the thick line of bushes there was a rustle
and before them the bushes moved aside and they were facing the old wooden door,
Claire knocked three times and opened the door.
They pulled the cart inside between them and the door closed
itself very quietly.
All at once it seemed as if fireworks were going off in the
middle of the garden, several bright flashes, a few cracks and some smoke
filled the space and there was Ashley, Rodger and soon followed by Eva and
Jedkin, Ashley’s parents.
The carpenter went very white and looked as if he was about to
pass out, but Claire put her hand on his arm and reassured him.
‘Thank you for bringing all the wood’ said Ashley, ‘we knew
that you were the only one in this area who could help us’.
‘It’s my pleasure’ said the carpenter.
It took a while for the group of them, working together to
unload the cart and make a neat pile of all the wood, and all the while Cellen
bounded around trying to help by picking up pieces of the wood in his mouth.
Once they were finished Ashley turned to the carpenter.
‘Mr Wood, David we would like to thank you for all you have
done and because we know how alone you feel at times, we have brought you this
little dog’ said Eva, Ashley’s mother.
Out from the outskirts of the garden came a pretty little
bitch, she had red hair, soft curly fur and a very full tail. She had huge eyes
and looked up at the carpenter, who’s name was ‘David Wood’.
‘David this is Sophie and she is to come and live with you for
a year and a day, you will have her food left at your back door for her each
morning and she must not eat any other food, apart from tiny bits of anything
you have already eaten yourself’ said Eva.
‘I am overwhelmed, I just don’t know what to say, I will keep
her very close to me and promise to take very good care of her’ said the
carpenter.
After a while he left with his new little lady dog, Claire
stayed to help build the new potting shed and before the day was out they all
had a little ceremony to bless the new shed and shared some mead, which is
honey wine and some biscuits, here is the little blessing they used.
‘Spirits of nature, of the elements, magical beings we ask you
to assist us now. Bless each and every one person of this World and those of
the fay that come to use this shed. Bless every living creature that comes into
this shelter and indeed into this garden. And in return we offer any muggle who
cames into this shed a feeling of warmth and calm, let this be a safe place
where two Worlds can meet in friendship.’
‘So mote it be!’ said Rodger the small gardener and everyone repeated…..’So
Mote it be!’
Have you never wondered why those who garden, spend hours in a
potting shed working away come out full of happiness and with a calm
surrounding them? Well now you know…….they have all been blessed by the fay,
the magical people who also use our gardens.
The End.
Siusaidh Ceanadach copywrite 2012.
Please contact me if you wish to use this story or part of it!
