Monet's Garden: Open Only a Few Months a Year, and Autumn Is Its Quietest Season

Monet's Garden Town, also called Giverny Town, is located in the Lower Normandy region of Paris, 90 kilometers from Paris. Previously, most people would take the SNCF train—about 11 euros to Vernon—for a day trip; driving is also very convenient. There's a parking lot here, and after parking, you can walk around the entire town, which is lovely.

Most visitors come to Monet's Garden because Monet lived here for a long time, and his famous water lilies were painted here. In autumn, under bright sunshine and blue skies with white clouds, the garden is enchanting: weeping willows by the pond, green bamboo by the stream, and flowers in every color of the rainbow—bright reds, oranges, yellows, greens, blues, indigos, and violets—stubbornly clinging to summer's brilliance. Add the autumn princess hues of fiery maple red everywhere, and the early autumn garden becomes even more alluring.

As sunset approaches, a light mist slowly lifts, casting faint rays of light. Before you unfolds a scene of autumn: touches of mature little red flowers among green leaves, walls covered in maple-red vines, and a crystal-clear stream flowing gently.

A few remaining water lilies stubbornly grow here, with clusters of pale green leaves floating. Long willow branches drape over the pond, while reddish leaves dip into the water, resting against a small wooden boat by the pond's edge. This scene seems to have less color but more elegance than the painted water lilies, like a maiden in plain clothes, still beautiful and captivating.

A small bridge spans the pond—it's called the "Japanese Bridge." It's also green, blending with the overhanging willows. Standing on the bridge, you look at the scattered water lilies lying quietly on their big green "beds," while leaves on nearby trees have turned yellow.

Pale golden light filters through the trees, and you can't help but imagine the countless times Monet sat right here, rain or shine, by day or by evening, observing nature, sensing the light, and capturing it with his brush. His paintings were often untitled. He said: "What matters is not the subject, but the painter's own observation and feeling."

Unlike other tourist spots, Monet's Garden is a place where you want to linger, maybe just sit down among the flowers, lie down, and set up camp. Flowers are truly everywhere here.

Along paths, by pools, at the pond's edge, under the bridge, even on the villa walls—green leaves and colorful, fragrant blooms burst forth everywhere. This natural, casual style feels intimate; strolling through it is like wandering your own garden, giving a sense of leisurely elegance.

Autumn in Monet's Garden is crisp and understated. Goldenrods, hydrangeas, and campanulas take their turns on stage, each radiating its own charm. The maples in the garden turn red, waving their fiery passion, while ginkgo leaves drift down a carpet of yellow thoughts. A rustling autumn wind sends fine reed plumes dancing in the air, sometimes playfully sneaking into visitors' hair, letting you unwittingly carry a bit of the garden's autumn home with you.

This is Monet's Garden—like another world, expressing itself through a world of flowers. Though it will close come winter, perhaps that's to preserve the finest scenery for future generations. And for us, this garden of Monet's will always belong to Monet, still so perfect and unforgettable!