Stepping down from the last train I walk home beneath a summer’s velvet, midnight sky. Myriad stars twinkle around a corn coloured moon lighting my way. I catch the scent of her perfume, sweet and soft as a whisper, before I see my mother come to meet me. The evocative fragrance of sweet peas permeates my garden today. Amongst the cabbage and potatoes, riots of multi-hued flowers climb crazily over the canes. Each precious petal as soft as a kitten’s ears.

Mary Younger