I love my garden. There is no doubt about that. It is here from where I watch the passing of the seasons as they go by, one after the other. From this solid position the sun rises and it sets and the years go by.

This is my Garden of Paradise and here is where I find peace and tranquillity at the end of my working day. Here is where I wake up to the reassuring sound of singing birds on a summer’s morning.

My garden is not big, it not small either. It is just the right size. If I take a slow walk it will take me about two and half minutes from one side to other. But most days it takes me one and half hours. It takes me this long because I stop to admire all the little details that combine to create this wonderful place.

I marvel at the twenty trees that surround me to produce the wondrous summer shade I pass through. They fascinate me because they are alive somehow. They are alive, they are growing and I planted them.

The flowering shrublets that line the planted beds are all resplendent with emerging flowers of different colours and shapes.

And though I see them every day, I am still drawn to their beauty. They bring me an inner joy I cannot fully explain. Perhaps it is the satisfaction that comes from knowing that I planted them and that I am now rewarded.

To be the creator and custodian of a small piece of the natural earth is a great honour and one that should not be taken lightly.

The gardens of suburbia are veritable paradises to be celebrated indeed. To own a beautiful garden is a wonderful privilege and one not enjoyed by the vast majority of the worlds’ population. In fact to many it is a place of toil.

My garden looks the way it does thanks to the dedication and hard work of my gardeners. Thus I would like to take this moment to acknowledge my outstanding employees. It is thanks to all of you that the Gardens of Paradise can be enjoyed here on earth.

Here is a salute all those who develop and work the land. To the farmers and farm workers who produce our food, the arborists growing the forests that produce our timber, the environmentalists who preserve the edges of our urban conurbations.