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.
The words of this song keep coming back to me as I find little groups of crocuses around the garden.
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!
There is one thing I love gazing at more than flowers. Baubles.
A post about how the dark times we go through help us to appreciate the moments of lightness…
We’re used to thinking in terms of hot and cold colours, or bright and soft colours. Now let’s think about Sensory Integration!
A simple meditation on the calm brought by gazing at a few cut flowers. Flower gazing brings peace, and wisdom, and enlightenment.
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.
It is easy to think that the garden has done what it is going to do this summer. We can only deadhead spent blooms and keep things watered, and continue to keep things going into autumn. And then it does this! Which very quickly become this: And then they do this! And you just can’t…
I have a complete fascination with colour. Gardening seems to have intensified that fascination because there are endless variations in colour in nature. Add changing light and shadow, the interaction of one colour against another, or the texture of a particular petal, a little bit of iridescence, and you have infinite variety. We are all…