Your Garden is not Your Garden (with a nod to Kahlil Gibran)

When I first came across Kahlil Gibran’s poem, On Children, back in the 1980s, I was taken by the way in which those words are a guide to parenting. He said:

“Your children are not your children.

They are the sons and the daughters of life’s longing for itself.

They come through you but not from you,

And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.”

As I looked at the images caught on my trail camera in the garden, it struck me that, similarly, our gardens are not our gardens. We are merely their custodians for a period of time. Badgers have lived where my garden resides for many more years than I have; foxes too. It’s a humbling thought and one I hold as I go about tending my garden, ensuring there is water for the wildlife, flowers for the bees to seek pollen, safe places for hedgehogs.

My garden is not my garden. I share it with many others and I feel privileged to do so.

Badger June 2025

Fox July 2025

Snail mail

On the eighth of the eighth, 1988, I ordered a kettle. Over the phone; in those days there was no internet superspeed shopping. I was exuberant as I hadn’t had a new kettle since 1960 and the naughty wee thing had finally conked. I suppose it had lasted well. It was my first electric kettle and I was so proud of it; I used to smile at myself in its shiny copper coating. My 80s one was to be a tall, slim model; a Morphy Richards.

Having ordered it, I somewhat forgot; life events took a rather odd turn and I continued to use the old hob kettle I’d inherited from Gran. On the eighth of the eighth 2008, exactly 20 years since my order, the kettle arrived. It actually had a hand-written apology note for the delay. I guess that’s why they call it ‘snail mail’ these days?

©️ Liz Mackenzie

Not the foot of the Dee then?

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Here’s five facts about Footdee: 

  1. It’s an old fishing village by Aberdeen harbour 
  2. There’s been dwellings there since medieval times
  3. Architect, John Smith designed Footdee’s cottages in 1809 to rehouse fishermen
  4. It is known, by locals, as Fittie 
  5. Though many believed the name Footdee referred to ‘foot of the Dee’ it is actually a corruption of a dedication to St Fothan

So armed with these facts, why visit this tiny place? It has the Silver Darling restaurant, a nod to the old Scottish name for herring. There’s an obelisk, Scarty’s Monument; you could be forgiven for thinking it’s a memorial but it’s really the ventilation shaft of a disused sewage point. The war memorial commemorates Footdee folk who died in first and second world wars. The roundhouse was the former harbour master’s station and the marine operations building is shapely in gleaming glass. 

All these pale to nothing when you meet the enchanting network of cobbled walkways hosting quaint cottages and quirky sheds. It’s said upcycling gave birth here long before television shows claimed its popularity. Rusting mangles and fishermen’s boots host flowers and trailing plants; lifebelts become the means to name a shed. It’s a time stands still, steeped in history (almost) hidden gem.

How had I missed it in the 60 years I’d been visiting Aberdeen? I spoke to my  aunt, the Aberdeen oracle who’s lived in the city since she was five. Her face lit up. “Fittie? I love it. We used to go there often, walking round each path admiring the little cottages all dressed up.” If you’ve been, you’ll know what she means. If you haven’t, don’t overlook this  fascinating, model village style piece of social history. Can you resist? 

©️ Liz Mackenzie 

Front Runner

Today, at my creative writing group, we did a short writing exercise whereby the person next to you gave you a word (any word) and you had to write no more than 50 words, starting with “I love you” and incorporating the given word. All a bit valentine’s day, thought I; I don’t ‘do’ valentines day but, ever game for a writing challenge, here is my offering with thanks to Elizabeth for a lovely word.

 

Front Runner

I love you snowdrop, you peek out when 

all is grey and Christmas is over.

You’re a front runner

the prelude to Spring

 

You don’t announce your arrival with

a fanfare, just shyly say, “hi”.

You are my hope

my dare to dream defender

 

I love you snowdrop

© Liz Mackenzie

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Photograph taken at Hodsock Priory Snowdrop Walk on 17 February 2019

Things I have left behind

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I have left behind the

spring in my step

clambering over rocks

the triumph of hilltops

I have left behind questions

not worth an answer

niggles and annoyances

and petty people

I have left behind memories

that don’t belong in today

and clutter my brain

like too many papers

I have left behind vanity

that made me mind

what people thought

become more me

© Liz Mackenzie 

Boxing Day

A tongue in cheek poem for Boxing Day.

Bubble squeaking with pigs in blankets

Over- indulgence leaving some

Xanthic (or yellowish if you will)

Invite friends for silly games

Nod off during yet more Christmas films

Go for a walk, brisk and bright

Doze again to TV repeats

And smile at yesterday’s snapshots

Yule, Christmas, Noel and New Year beckons…

©️ Liz Mackenzie

To see you one more time

The good thing about being part of a creative writing group is the challenge to write ‘on the spot’. For me, this gives the chance to go with whatever first comes to mind within a specific theme. Today’s challenge was to write something starting with, “All I want for Christmas …”. I did go with my first thought but couldn’t read it out; too raw. I can, however, post it here.

All I want for Christmas is to see mum once more, and for last Christmas not to have been … the last. Would she speak with dementia wit after Christmas lunch with her party hat on and her plate empty? “What are you doing for Christmas, dear?”

Cheers, mum x

©️ Liz Mackenzie