Last night I walked down the long gravel path arm in arm with my flatmate. We looked at the sky with scattered stars over an empty field, and the lights shining behind and in front of us. Saturday evenings at Bahji are priceless. I will look back on these short days with longing, and I am so glad that I know this now.
In the winter it smells like roses in the Shrines, and in the summer I remember the smell of jasmine. At sunset the trees are aflame and the shadows grow slowly when I circle the gardens. At night there are the shimmering globes that give off a cool illumination, isolated spots of focus in the darkness.
I gazed at the ceiling, my knees pressed against the thick carpets and my hands folded in my lap. The vines, stones, flowers, and metal intertwine, the softness of the silence contrasts with the brightly lit room.
(Baha’u’llah, Gleanings, p. 38)