Sunlight is transformative. Petals and leaves become translucent and their network of veins are revealed. The fine down on stems and buds are illuminated. Sunlight is a transitory and elusive quality in the garden. Which is perhaps why it is so magical.
A post about fragility, being gentle, and holding on.
A post about appreciating soft, subtle colour. Lilac, white and sage, with a hint of buttermilk and a flash of deep purple. Sometimes it is good to slow down and appreciate the quiet.
Nature has many different solutions to the problem of how to get a flower pollinated. This post explores the diversity of flower forms, with cups, plates, trap-doors, bells, umbels and more!
September is about flying by the seat of your pants. As my daughter freaks out over her art homework, I take to deadheading. De-tangle and de-stress along with me.
In this post, I’m reflecting on which plants are the real workhorses, keeping the show going into autumn. Which plants have been supping the elixir of eternal youth, and which are a little worse for wear.
Red Admiral butterflies are pesky little creatures to photograph. With Buddleja as bait, I finally get one!
An exploration of the very different colours and textures of the Gironde. Chalky whites and greys are the background to bright splashes of colour from Oleander and Hibiscus, with the wonderful blue shutters popping up in the background.
These are my Top 10 colour combinations of 2018. Chartreuse and magenta? Vermillion and Violet? Fuchsia and tangerine? You saw it first on The Mindful Gardener!
A glossy mag sort of a post. No brainpower needed. Silky textures, rich colour, delicious flower forms. This is flower porn. The tasteful sort.
We have just returned from a holiday in France. I got into a habit whilst we were there of walking to the Boulangerie for bread and croissants each morning. Before anyone else was awake. I woke up at about seven, pulled on my clothes oh-so-quietly, made a cup of tea oh-so-quietly, and crept across the…
I get like this. You see I have looked after these babies since March. I remember when they were just a twinkle in a Chiltern Seeds Spring catalogue. I scattered their tiny shuttlecock seeds, and made sure I didn’t sneeze at the wrong moment. I pricked them out so carefully, holding them by a leaf…