Magical Garden Quotes

“Silver-tinged butterflies glittered in the azure sky, beckoning her closer. They drank from fountains of swans, swimming in lighthearted felicity, dancing, flickering about in fanciful wonder. They fluttered past the glimmering gate—an arch of floral splendor—past and over rising trellises of mazes of roses and delicate
peonies, their buds just beginning to open. They were like the creatures of the forest, yet so entirely different. Where there had been a slight disquietude to the enchantment of the woods, here it was pure Light. The melody of the woods had been haunting, ethereal— beautiful, yet not entirely to be trusted; the notes of the garden were of a much more whimsical sweep of sound. And yet, these were merely her inner senses, for, just as in the woods, she had heard nothing at all.”
― Gina Marinello-Sweeney, Prince of Chandeliers

“Most mornings I get up to listen to the birds, and each summer I taste the honeysuckle, and I kiss Rus in the golden hours of dusk every chance I get. I kiss him in the mornings, too, and in the early afternoons, and in the gazebo of that someday garden, when we finally built it.
I never heard Harriet’s voice again, and while the gardens spun strange stories for other people, Lilymoor’s magic politely passed us by.
Then again, we didn’t need it anymore as we fell in love over and over and over again, season after season, in that someday garden on the cliffs by the sea.”
― Ashley Poston, The Someday Garden

“The garden, over the last month, had transformed into a beautiful oasis of flowers and clovers and soft willow boughs. It was perhaps beautiful at any part of the day, but Henry had been right to design it for sunset. The orange light of magic hour really made the magic.
Equal parts shade and sunlight shifted across the flowers, native plants mingling in colorful bouquets. Large stalks of milkweed waved between rays of sunflowers, chicories grew in bursts of violet between Saint-John’s-wort, while hedge maids crawled across the ground between sprigs of wild mint and fireweed. There were summer lilacs basking in the sun beside black-eyed Susans, buttercups and yarrow and Queen Anne’s lace mingling like a colorful soiree, while goldenrod sprouted in the sunniest spots beside the forget-me-nots and bluebells.
It was a kaleidoscope of colors and flowers, while tireless honeybees with little yellow trousers of pollen skirted from one bud to the next.
Henry had a dream, and now, standing in Rus’s finished version, it was a good one. Eula would love it.
“Rus?” I called, looking at the vibrant flowers and shrubs, the shade of the willow and the soft green of clovers. The far wall had finally bloomed with deep yellow honeysuckles, looking like molten gold spilling onto the grass.”
― Ashley Poston, The Someday Garden