So I have a confession to make... Mr. Darcy wasn't my first introduction to the world of Victorian Swagalicious miniseries, nor was Mr. Rochester, or Gilbert Blythe. I know you're all scandalized, but I'm convinced when I explain, you'll all nod vigorously and agreed whole-heartedly.
My little-girl heart belonged to Dickon Sowerby: animal whisperer, garden re-vitalizing co-conspirator, and all-around hero. I'm hoping you all know to whom I refer, because how can you have not seen The Secret Garden? The 1993 version was a childhood staple, and my favorite adaptation of Francis Hodgson Burnett's book. I could probably go on for hours about Dickon alone. In fact, he's probably to blame for the state of my cravat-loving heart today.
But the boy isn't the only reason to love The Secret Garden. It's got mystery, and far-away lands, and, of course, an enchanting garden. I'd like to pretend that despite my limited budget and not-so-green thumb I could someday have a garden like this:
Obviously I'll have to keep dreaming, but this movie just makes my mind wander to the loveliest of places. The scenery and completely amazing score together are enough to make one fall into a coma from sensory overload.
I'm sorry, I'm not sorry for giving you all of these beautiful images to day-dream about. But don't you just want to hop on that pony and take off into the sunset with Dickon (in a totally non-creepy, lets all pretend he's older way)?
I leave you with that parting thought. Have a fabulous weekend, dear readers!