Jan 16, 2013 21:29
One thing Book had learned during his time in Southdown Abbey was that gardens needed tending, even in the dead of winter, when everything else had hunkered down to ride out the cold. There was always that one plant that needed tending, that needed care. Of course, with the Botanical Gardens in the village, it was more than one plant.
He was on his hands and knees, enjoying the simple pleasure that came with working with his hands, helping to nuture something beautiful, a deep sense of contentment coming over him. In this place, he'd take all the moments he could get like that.