My garden dream is protected by moonlight.
There are a scattering of gardenias and palm trees. Rose bushes filter through amongst the tropical blooms.
The air is potently fragrant.
Is this paradise? Or is this still just a backyard?
Millions of grass blades cushion under foot as I step across the space.
Nearby, a coupling of volcanic rocks and beyond that rests a pool of water. Jasmine climbs over the rocks and conquers the wall behind.
Lit Tiki lamps dispersed around the pool do their fire dance — shimmer and glow.
The water is still.
The garden is still.
It is there in my mind. Waiting for me.