Today was so much easier to find focus. I instantly thought of a butterfly as a verb to describe how your eyes move across a garden when you're feeling peaceful. How it is like a photograph in slow motion that comes with visceral senses. A smell could bring you back to this place, the light on a flower could recall the memory. So many different triggers to take you back to this place of peaceful calm.  

She looked over the garden as if caught on the wings of a butterfly, dancing from flower to flower. Resting briefly to admire a vibrant rose or the lounging soft petals of a peony. She breathed so deeply it was as though she was inhaling the whole garden. The cool air from the rounded pebbles along each pathway. The chalky coolness from each mismatched brick edging the garden beds. The mix of sweetness and spice from furred leaves, splayed leaves, leaves that grew as though they couldn't decided which way they wanted to grow. She held the air in her lungs while her nose slowly categorised each perfume. Assigning it a colour, a shape, a texture…