Читать книгу 365 Simple Pleasures - Susannah Seton - Страница 16

In the winter when my garden is dry and bare, nothing gives me more pleasure than to visit the local garden shop, where it always feels like sweet, balmy summer. I wander through the rows of brightly colored flowers and richly hued shiny leaves, and the aroma of blossoms and sweet rich earth make me forget, for a time, the gloom and doom outside. The plants and flowers are completely oblivious to the weather outside, and their verdant outbursts of energy restore mine. I take an inordinate amount of time picking out some ridiculously expensive and riotously colored plant that just screams warm weather, which I take home and place on my windowsill or bedside table in a beautiful basket or brightly colored cachepot. I kind of have a “brown thumb,” so my plants never last long, but I almost prefer that; it gives me a chance to go to the garden shop again that much sooner!