This summer, instead of our traditional group vacation, a series of exhilarating individual plans emerged. To Alaska, to Africa, to golf outings, and internships, our family was on the move. There was only one problem. While adventures were being unveiled, I had neglected to incubate plans of my own.
I tried on the prospect of hanging out at home while the rest of the group made memories, but quickly rejected that. Clearly the time had arrived to imagine things differently, to develop a personal bucket list, and to make something happen fast. Freed of having to please anyone but myself, I rang up my college roommate Sandra, and proposed we take an English garden tour.
This plan had several advantages, the first of which was the handy coincidence that Sandra happens to live in the English countryside, so only one of us would have to travel.
Second, I really enjoy international flights, a chance to lean back with no responsibilities, and ponder the variety on this earth. Finally, gardens are one of my passions, and the theme had legs. If this first trip worked out for us, certainly we could plan more.
I checked the internet and local library for garden lists. Finally, I bought a short stack of guides, plopped into a chair and started to read. Despite being the size of New York, England is awash with sightseeing opportunities. A flurry of email exchanges honed our itinerary into a manageable week with a tight focus. Punctuated by downtime to rest, exercise and reflect on places we had visited, the trip took shape.
In the land of castles, cream teas and crumpets, we immersed ourselves in natural magnificence and history. From kite festivals to raptor demonstrations, from Wales to Wisely Gardens, we examined, dissected and discussed. Flocks of grazing sheep punctuated the countryside. I was beside myself with delight.
Energized by our success, a second garden itinerary emerged. We must do it again.
Soon.