Beyond the Mediterranean Sea and behind the Atlas Mountains lies the ancient Berber town of Taroudant.
In that town you’ll find a place to stay a while – La Maison Anglaise – a house where travellers rest and play.
Roof top pots hold vibrant red and purple blooms; perfumed breezes bathe guests beneath the azure sky.
Down below amidst the orange grove there is a garden of sparrows chatting and chirping from sunrise to sunset.
In the high red clay walls of that garden are a hundred holes where sparrows nest and secrets linger.
If you put your hand into some of those holes a snake might bite or a scorpion sting.
But if you dare to put your hand into others you might find a sultan’s ring, a snake charmer’s flute, a bottle of argan oil or a beeswax candle.
I reached into one of those holes and pulled out a tale not heard for a thousand years or more.
And this is the story I found …
The Garden of Sparrows