The park and the garden around the house speak. They are poets rather than just any speakers, they speak an ancient language, they tell stories of other times. The park is the highlight of the house.
As soon as you enter through the large iron gate and walk up the sloping driveway walking on gravel, your gaze is beckoned from many sides. Flowerbeds of colorful flowers, lush trees on whose branches squirrels hop, one immediately feels in an enchanted garden.
Every corner is loved and cherished. The scent of jasmine intoxicates and, mingling with the fragrance of wisteria in full bloom, makes the atmosphere simply magical. The centuries-old Thuje trees tell of distant continents. Their mighty arms, sinewy and generous, turn to the ground supporting colorful hammocks that rock as if in a mother’s lap. Those who cradle there and close their eyes hear echoes of ancient lullabies.
On the side, the great oak tree has defended the house from lightning for 150 years, and the metasequoia points resolutely upward, uniting heaven and earth in an alchemy that generates energy and wonder. Lime trees soften the soul and magnolias nurture their beauty as they gaze out over the lake.
In summer, trees with colorful fruits await a child’s curious hand; it is truly a feast to pick loquats and strawberry trees and trays of sweet strawberry grapes from the arbor beside the wood-burning oven. The grass is soft and bright, a bed on which to rest casting your eyes to the sky, which fades sweetly in the clear water of the lake.
