Our Little Rooftop Garden

On the morning of 15 July, I went up to our rooftop garden with a cup of tea in my hand. The sun was soft, the sky was clear blue, and a light wind was moving through the trees around our house. This little garden on the roof is one of my favourite places in the whole world. It is not very big, but it is full of life. There are pots everywhere — round pots, square pots, hanging pots, small pots and big pots. Some are made of clay, some of plastic, some of ceramic. Every corner has something green, something growing, something alive.

In the middle of the roof, we have a small sitting area with a glass roof and clear plastic walls. It looks like a tiny greenhouse. Inside, there is a black cane sofa with soft cushions, a small centre table, and a swing with a black seat and a striped pillow. The floor is covered with green artificial grass and brown wooden tiles that click softly under your feet. From here, you can see the sky through the glass roof, and the sunlight comes in warm and yellow. Two small white ceramic elephants sit near the sofa, watching over the plants like tiny guards.

Around the sitting area, the plants are arranged like a small jungle. There are tall palm-like plants, low leafy plants, spider plants with long green and white leaves, and bright red-leaf plants that look like they are on fire. On the top wall, a row of big pots holds our bougainvillea. Right now, they are in full bloom — bright pink, hot pink, magenta — the colours are so strong that they look almost unreal. In front of the bougainvillea, we have geraniums in small pots. Their round red flower bunches sit on green leaves and look like little bouquets.

From the edge of the roof, you can see the road below. It is a narrow black road that curves gently around the corner. On the other side of the road, there is a big empty plot with dry grass, small bushes and a few tall eucalyptus trees. In the far distance, you can see a red painted house peeping out from behind the trees. Sometimes a white car passes by, sometimes a person walks with a bag, sometimes a dog runs across the road. From up here, everything looks small and calm, like a picture from a storybook.

The best part of the garden is the hanging pots. My mother has tied them from the top of the glass roof with strong ropes. There are more than ten of them in a line — some with money plants, some with succulents, some with trailing green vines that hang down like curtains. When the wind blows, they sway together slowly, and it feels like the whole roof is dancing. In one corner, there is a wind chime that makes a soft ringing sound. In another corner, a small solar lamp waits quietly for the sun to charge it before it lights up at night.

I sat on the swing for a long time and drank my tea. A few sparrows came and sat on the wall, looked around, and flew away. A butterfly landed on one of the pink bougainvillea flowers and stayed for a few seconds. My mother came up with a small watering can and started watering the plants one by one, talking softly to them like they were children. She said, 'A garden gives back exactly what you give to it — love, water and time.' I looked around at all the flowers, the leaves, the swing, the sky, and I understood what she meant. This little rooftop is not just a garden. It is our peace, our happy place, and the best corner of our home.