Botanical Garden

Botanical Garden

After changing her outfit, she sets off on a leisurely journey through the three-story gallery of nature. On the first floor, she walks among the plants, touches the leaves, inhales the spicy aromas, and freezes in delight, as if dissolving into this living world. Climbing higher, Marina finds a section with cacti. She carefully picks one up, examines its needles... but, of course, she can't resist – a prick and a slight grimace. She playfully sucks her finger like a child and laughs at herself. On the third floor – height and freedom. In this moment – absolute lightness, playfulness, and a zest for life.

She is already here – completely. The walk has awakened her inspiration, and now every corner of the garden calls her to work. Marina returns to the table, lightly tossing her hair over her shoulder, her gaze as soft as a warm morning. Everything around her seems to follow a special rhythm: gloves, chisels, a bowl of soil on the table, the scent of greenery still lingering in the air. The windows are slightly open, the wind rustles the curtains, and at that moment she feels that the day has begun.

Returning to her desk, she looks at her to-do list again. The day promises to be busy. With a light sigh of responsibility, she adjusts her panama hat, rolls up her sleeves, and gets started. The first task is repotting. She takes the fragile pots, carefully frees the roots, and gently places each plant in new soil. It's almost like a ritual of care – gentle, quiet, sensual. Then it's time to water. The watering can is full of cool water, and she walks around the room, watering each plant in turn. At the end, she takes the hose, the spray plays in the light, and drops fall on her face and neck.

The garden is saturated with moisture, the work is almost done. The surrounding silence has deepened, as if nature itself is thanking her for her care. The wet leaves glisten, reflecting the sun, and beneath her feet, the warm tiles retain traces of the past day. She shakes the water droplets from her fingers, pauses, and at that moment, everything becomes especially vivid. She feels a slight fatigue in her chest, pleasant, like the aftertaste of something important.

The workday is almost over. She goes downstairs, takes off her dusty clothes, and puts on a clean work coat. She carefully checks off the task list – everything is done. But instead of rushing, she allows herself a break. It's time to relax. She takes a simple snack out of her bag. A few fresh green leaves make her lunch especially lively and delicious. The second floor is a veritable floral paradise. She takes out her smartphone and starts taking pictures of herself among the flowers. Lightness, flirtation, a little nudity – everything is natural, like the breath of nature. And then... just the sun. She sits down in a corner where the sun's rays touch her skin and closes her eyes. Everything freezes. Only warmth, the rustling of leaves, and her blissful, quiet “now.”

The day is coming to an end. She is back in her clothes – loose, slightly worn, but familiar. In the mirror, she sees slight fatigue mixed with satisfaction. But as she heads for the exit, she suddenly stops. On the second floor, there it is – the little flower that has been on her mind since morning. Something about its modest beauty touched her deeply. She goes back upstairs, approaches it, and looks around. The gallery is still empty. And now the flower is in her bag. With a slight mischievous smile on her lips, she leaves the Botanical Garden.

She unlocks the door, steps inside, and for a moment just stands still. The silence here is different – it's gentle, familiar. She takes off her shoes, stretches, and smiles at the scattered things that no longer need to be perfect. Her plants have grown. The cup on the table still holds the scent of morning tea. She lights a small lamp and sits on the floor, leaning against the wall. Home. Only the quiet joy of being herself.

After a long, busy day, she wants only one thing – cleanliness and rest. She goes into the bathroom, and the warm shower washes away the dust, worries, and memories. Her body relaxes, her thoughts fade away. In soft pajamas, with wet hair, she steps out of the bathroom. Next to her is her faithful dog, with a joyful look and a quiet sigh. They lie down in bed together. A flower on the windowsill, the soil in the pot still damp, and the feeling that the day has been well spent. She falls asleep with a smile, hugging her dog, embraced by nature and light, which still live in her body.