The veins of leaves and the networks of bare branches remind us of our own connection with the Universe. We are all interlaced. We are all important.
We tend to focus on colour in autumn, but it is also a change in form that I notice. Leaves thin out, filtering sunlight. Each leaf is holding on by a thread. They spin on their stalks, catching the light. It is like the garden is strung with fairy lights.
How we made the most beautiful compost you ever saw…
A post about how the dark times we go through help us to appreciate the moments of lightness…
There is something about walking together. The rhythmic pounding and arm swinging. You fall into step and emotionally attune to one another. There is nothing forced about it; it just happens.
Roses are like people. They can manage with very little. But with a few little acts of kindness, they will richly reward you next summer with more blooms, strong growth and resistance to disease. Here are five simple acts to show that you care.
An experiment into whether I can bring a growth mindset to housework. I enjoy the movement and the sensory pleasures of ‘garden cleaning’. Could this be harnessed for house cleaning?
My vision for my bright border is a firework display of colour, with exploding shapes and textures. But is it still popping by November?