Wednesday, 26 November 2014
Apparently when the new owners moved in within a year the garden had been cleared.....minimal was the new owners preference. I can remember feeling so sad when I was told. What about the wildlife that lived amongst the ivy....where would the bees go.....would the thrush find a new nesting site. Nothing stays ours forever, everything changes.
just a friendly garden plot,
Walled with stone and roofed with sun,
Where the days pass one by one.
Not too fast and not too slow,
Looking backwards as they go
At the beauties left behind
To transport the pensive mind.
Bliss Carmen.............Where is heaven ??
Saturday, 22 November 2014
Candelabra Primula is in bloom, such a surprise. The exceptionally mild weather has given it thoughts of Spring.
Each day I have walked the garden. Much needed at times. It has been a difficult week but the news is good, Mr P is home. He is recovering slowly...........we do not know what the future holds but we are positive and strong in mind. I personally feel the worse is over and the future is bright.
Thank you all for your words of kindness and compassion.
They have helped me get through this week and I am grateful to each and every one of you.
Saturday, 15 November 2014
Nothing in life is to be feared, it is only to be understood................Marie Curie.
Have a wonderful weekend........enjoy your loved ones.
Monday, 10 November 2014
I am hoping when Spring arrives they will choose to stay in the garden and breed.
Sunday, 9 November 2014
Saturday, 8 November 2014
.......and the mist thins to reveal the southwest......a shining wheat field, speckled with brilliant blue cornflowers and red poppies. There are picnic baskets spilling the remains of the labourers food. One field has been scythed, except for a single tussock. A heat haze blurs your vision, and in the rolling landscape you sense a shining figure. The men are standing back in a group from the last swathe of grain and one by one they throw their scythes to cut through it. As the last scythe flies, the air shimmers and the grain is sheared like the head of the solar king, crowned with wheat. As the bright stems fall among the poppies, a huge hare bounds from the stubble and disappears across the fields. The heat haze turns to mist which obscures the scene, leaving you with the bittersweet taste of sacrifice and harvest.....the dance of life.
The path of Druidry...................Penny Billington.
Have a good weekend