The Garden

Dec. 16th, 2009 04:06 pm
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[identity profile] berlinghoff79.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] sgaconstruction
The figure stood in the early morning, face turned to the glimmer of soft light on crashing waves. His eyes searched from distant horizon to the shoreline, eyes taking in driftwood, seaweed and the last of the months snapfish jumping through wave-crests and bubbles.

What he wanted was not in view yet.

The eyes continued their journey, following weathered bleached boards up the beach, the side of the house, until it met the dishevelled assortments of wood that tried to mark the garden boundary. It wasn't doing very well, the sand still got in.

The man turned, moving away from the rising light, took a swallow from the mug and sat on the wooden love seat on the deck, offering views of sea, sand, garden and the back of the house.

The garden had been one of the many projects he'd surprisingly enjoyed. The house had succumbed to the ravages of sea and storms before they found it. The garden doubly so, being more dune and ragwort than anything else when they moved in. Now ,the pathways and beds created a maze of intricate design. Only if you looked from the rear bedroom windows or the attic terrace could you see what that pattern became.

Planting had been a challenge. What to use that would offer food, fuel and a “stress free garden experience”. In the end they had a series of field trips, covering many of the planets they had visited in their missions together. Gradually the garden had begun to take shape. Large willow like trees to the back. They bore fruit, offered fuel and gave a delicate perfume at twilight. Tea lights hung in their branches, small glass globes that gradually changed colour over the night, drawing their power by day from the diffused sunlight.

The herbaceous beds were next, offering vegetable and flowers in row after row of riotous colour, yet green was not the most abundant here. Silver grey and shades of blue held sway over the foliage. Deep red and golden yellow dotted here and there.

Large pieces of driftwood had been used to make the beds raised, protecting their delicate inhabitants from the sand that drifted everywhere. Hydro-pebbles kept the soil moist, keeping it cool and hydrated by day and acting as condensation points during dawn and dusk.

The beds decreased in height until only the decking remained, running from the borders to the back and side of the house.

They'd spent hours beach-combing, looking for the weird and wonderful to place in the garden. They'd brought some bits from home, and Teyla had presented them with an athosian sculpture that had pride of place on the decking by the seat.

“Rodney!”

He looked up and saw John jogging up the path from the seashore, his surfboard under his arm. He waved and headed for the kitchen. He needed more coffee, and John would need his breakfast.


Later

The party was in full swing. The garden was full of revellers, chatting, drinking, taking in the serenity of the garden. Teyla turned to the two of them and smiled.

“You have made a good place here.”

“We try our best.” John smirked and snaked an arm around Rodney's shoulders.

“you should be very proud of your accomplishments. It was hardest I know, for the both of you when the time came to leave Atlantis.”

Rodney's shoulders sagged a little and John squeezed a little tighter.

“I miss the old place.” Rodney sighed. “But they would never let us retire there so...” His voice trailed off, wistful.

Teyla looked around. Her arm outstretched as she encompassed the garden in a graceful sweep of her hand.

“But you have such a beautiful reminder...” She said, smiling again and looked up to the bedroom window. “...which you can see whenever you want.”

“Yes, well.” Rodney blushed. and John's laughter could be heard across the sands.


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Author: [livejournal.com profile] tipsywitch
Artist: [livejournal.com profile] calcitrix


Where to next?

The Entry Hall
The Garage
2nd Floor
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