I wrote this essay while attending Camosun College in Victoria, BC Canada 1994.

I used to dine with Sweden's King Carl XVI. Of course we ate a hundred yards away from each other, but still, we enjoyed the peaceful atmosphere of Drottningholm Park to such an extent that the distance would not matter. While sitting on the bench in front of the palace, I would see the king glancing through the window at the park. I have never visited a place that would give me a greater feeling of safety, beauty and harmony than Drottningholm Park in Stockholm, Sweden. Not to mention King Carl, who had chosen this place as his summer residence some six hundred years ago, I discovered myself that this was a perfect place to have a lunch away from my work and the city noise.

The park is located right in the middle of the upper class district and is regarded as the safest place in the capital. Stockholm, in general, has its image as being a considerably safe and non-violent city. Since the crime is low, Drottningholm Park in particular is commonly visited at different times of day, including early morning birds that watch the sunrise and a first glimpse of the day. This comfort might not be enjoyed by the Londoners or New Yorkers who stay away from their parks during the odd hours of the day, and that’s what makes this place so unique. This atmosphere of well-being and leisure only emphasizes its natural beauty.

After spending a few minutes walking through the narrow alleys from the entrance to the lake, passers-by discover several kinds of species of botanical wonders. Delicate hazel-nut trees with the trembling tiny leaves upon pleiades of different green-and-brown junipers mysteriously dipped in the sea of wild flowers lean quietly in their beds. A pleasant aroma draws hundreds of birds and bees for their daily dose of ‘the natural champagne feast’. Flowers seem to bend towards visitors of the park as if waiting for the words of appreciation. No place is more quiet than a small gazebo located further on the island connected by an old wooden bridge. The scent of water and wood combine an unforgettable fragrance of the past years. While sitting on the bench inside, visitors observe twinkling sun on the lazy waters, ornament of trees in the sky and slowly, almost emotionlessly buzzing bees; the only sound they can hear. In the distance, there is a pier where a dozen of sail boats leave the only trail of civilization. The harmony in this natural beauty of the park seems to be random, but in fact, was planned very carefully. 

The park, very green, open and bushy on its edges, surrounded by the lake on one side, seems to be well organized. As it was arranged several centuries ago by a famous architect, Drottningholm Park has its own ‘floor plan’. The entrance leads logically through the garden to the lake and a centrally located palace. Tall trees enclose the pier and a huge area of open fields. The outskirts of the park are implemented in various types of gardens. To maintain and properly expose the beauty of the park the government has hired a squad of gardeners and artists who enhance this tourist attraction. The city and its landscape have grown around the park so quickly that the border appears to be invisible. All the houses in the neighborhood somehow reflect the park’s irresistible charm, so living in this part of the city is regarded as a privilege and a source of pride. Visitors, as if not to break the undiminished harmony, are walking slowly and with grace enjoying long afternoons and a moment of meditation.

In a moment of meditation I came back to the past. The park stands in my eyes as a beautiful memory; flowers are covered with a dew, waking up looking for the first glimpse of a sunray. Every time I decided to have lunch at Drottningholm Park, I found myself surrounded by beauty and quietness. The monarch, King Karol Gustav, the resident of the palace had apparently enjoyed our distant get together too, would go back to his job -- greeting heads of states, and I would come to work with a tremendous feeling of refreshment and esthetic fulfillment.

I wrote this essay while attending Camosun College in Victoria, BC Canada 1994.