A Visit to the Garden Cottage: Wind, Paint and Possibility
About two years ago, my husband and I bought a piece of property in the Slovak countryside. Our dream was simple: a place to rest, grow our own food, and find joy in the quiet rhythms of nature.
That plan shifted when we purchased a property with a large vineyard. At first, it felt like a blessing. But soon after, we had to cut down every vine due to a disease that overtook the area. The loss hit hard. For a while, we grieved—not just the vines, but the vision we had attached to them.
Slowly though, we’re coming out of that grief and beginning to see the new possibilities in front of us.
A Sunny Day, a Brutal Wind
We don’t always get time to visit the Garden Cottage, but yesterday we managed the two-hour drive on a rare sunny day. The temperature read 18°C, but the 50km/h winds made it feel closer to 4°C. Let’s just say—it was brutal. Still, the sun was shining, and that made everything feel just a little lighter.
Painting Progress and Garden Dreams
Tín and I had one main task: give the shed its second coat of paint. It took our entire visit, but we finished it. Next up is painting the trim a mint green, adding curtains, and then—just like that—the shed will be ready to use.
The patch of land around the shed is where I envision our vegetable garden. I want to fence it off, build raised beds, and lay a little stone path leading to the door. I want it to be both beautiful and functional—a quiet corner of the property with a purpose and a soul.
It’s the one space I can see clearly in my mind, and that clarity gives me so much joy.
The Path I Always Return To
In between painting sessions, I went on a walk—something I always make time for when we’re at the Garden Cottage. I’ve walked this path many times, but each time I try to see something new, to tell the same story in a different way.
I think, I pray, I ponder. This time, I invited Jesus to join me. I welcomed His loving presence to walk beside me. These walks are something I deeply cherish—breathing in the countryside, listening to the quiet, noticing the light. My heart needed these moments.
“Familiar ground, yet always something new-this is the gift of returning.”
Looking Ahead
We don’t always make it to the Garden Cottage, but every time we do, it’s beautiful.
Winters and early spring can be hard—windy, muddy, and cold—but summer and autumn? They’re a dream.
This year, my hope is to spend more weekends there, to truly use the space God has given us. To plant, rest, and create. To reclaim what was lost, and step into something new.
Do you have a place that grounds you—somewhere you return to again and again, even if the vision for it keeps changing? I’d love to hear how that place is shaping your seasons too.
