Sunday Reflection: A Garden at the Threshold
There is a small garden at the entrance to Granville Island that blooms most generously in early summer. It does not ask for attention. It simply offers colour, texture, and breath to those who pass. Today, I lingered there—not out of obligation or schedule, but because something in me slowed down.
We often think of reflection as something active—a processing, a summing up. But perhaps the truest reflection happens when we let the world move through us without words. Just music. Just petals in the breeze. Just the soft companionship of being alive to the moment.
This is not a reflection about flowers. This is a reflection with them.
Let it be enough.
Sometimes, beauty does not speak—it listens. These flowers, in their quiet splendour, remind us that reflection does not always need words. It only asks for presence.