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Tom. | profile | all galleries >> The Garden Residents. tree view | thumbnails | slideshow

The Garden Residents.


“A leaf, a flower bud, a cloud, an acorn, a blade of grass all appear to be separate things, different to how and what I look like, but this is a mistaken idea, for all things no matter what are intimately connected, the world as we see it as separate is an imagined world, it is an idea in the mind and has no substance whatever, all that is is what I am, and I am all that is. The love of nature is the love of Mother, divine, ineffable, sublime. Often when I see a simple buttercup or a daisy, a wild flower growing in a meadow as I take my daily stroll, tears well up and overflow my eyes with the sheer joy of being alive and gifted with a sight that knows full well that Mother is showing Her loveliness and splendour to me, it is a wonder and awe that talks through the silent trees, over the ripples in a stream, and I catch it in the eye of a small bird, the shimmer in a butterfly’s wing and the droning hum of a passing bee.

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