If you suffer from mid-winter blues, I would encourage you to plant bulbs next autumn. One January or February morning, you will see tiny green shoots, and within a week or two, a little paintbrush smudge of flower. A few days later, as if the flower were spring-loaded, petals will have burst out in all directions, and this gorgeous little warrior will be standing proud.
We rarely reach the point in life where we can say ‘I have achieved my perfect balance.’ But there are moments. I had one this morning, in the middle of a very unromantic task: taking the kitchen waste out to the compost heap. The light was catching the veg patch just so. I could smell…
After five minutes in the garden I have re-charged and re-energised. There is so much to be grateful for. So many little miracles unfolding before me. Energy bursting upwards and outwards, exploding out of buds. Light shining out of stems and leaves. An infinite variety of shapes and textures.
On a weekend, I like to get up before the rest of the family. I put on my dressing gown and slippers, make myself a cup of tea, slip on my wellies, and take a little walk around the garden.
Misunderstood sepals, tempting nectaries, fizzling stamens in various stages of excitement, and patiently waiting carpels at the core. You will find all life in the crazy orbit of a Hellebore!
Like with so many spring bulbs, you spend hours watching over them, singing to them, telling them little stories, begging them to open. Then just as your back is turned (you have put the kettle on to boil, or just nipped to the loo), TA DA! The most magnificent flower has sprung open!
Every time I see these Fuchsia and Salvia cuttings, I feel a little warm glow inside, because human beings are generous, and like to share their blessings.
I was just lugging the hoover upstairs when I noticed there was a strange light. Through the window I spied this. Hang the housework, I had to get out there!
The sun is just lifting free of the horizon. I move towards the light…
Let’s celebrate those who dare to be different. Who let their madness shine through. Who receive a frosty reception but do it anyway.
Understanding the basics of Sensory Integration can help us plan a garden that can have calming areas, to balance the alerting areas. There are also some tips for calming yourself in a stressful situation, using the principles of Sensory Integration.
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.