Thistledown and spider silk;
standing on the kitchen step
she combs sunshine
through her early-morning hair.
Thistledown and spider silk;
standing on the kitchen step
she combs sunshine
through her early-morning hair.
English summers bring such a mixture of weather and colours. I admired this cousin to the dandelion not just for its cheerful yellow sunlike flowers, but also for its clear determination to hold tight and grow despite the odds.
This borage flower had rather more water and soil to aid its growth, and from the look of the sky, there was more water to come.
Continue reading “colours & sounds”
Yesterday was one of those typical days of English summer: blue skies and sunshine, sparkling drizzle, brief torrential rain and blustery gusts of wind. I dressed appropriately – sleeveless blouse and sunglasses, but also a scarf – and carried an umbrella – not just a little fold-up one tucked in my handbag, but a full size golfing umbrella, which was needed before I’d got to the end of the street.
Continue reading “brightside down”
Apparently the summer solstice and the full moon coincide tonight, so here’s a white rose – a rose for summer and white for the moon.
White roses always make me think of this line in Laurie Lee’s Home From Abroad:
The hedges choke with roses fat as cream.
Among the flower photos in last Sunday’s post was this one, which I had mistakenly thought might be magnolia, but then identified as dogwood.
When I found out what it was, I was surprised to read of the flowers turning white. I thought that must be a specific type of dogwood, not necessarily the one in the local park. Still, I went back to look and found that, yes, the tree that I had originally thought looked as if it was covered in brimstone butterflies is now quite different.
The flowers are a little the worse for wear after so many spring storms, but we’ve had a lot of sunshine, too. Shall I blame the rain for having washed the colour away, or the sun for bleaching them?