Raindrops on Leaves

Garden Birds

Clock on the Wall

The clock is on the garden wall, next to the star mirror.  As was pointed out this clock is now absolutely right twice every 24 hours. Over the summer, a plant gradually obscures its face, another month or two, the leaves will vanish. When I first knew my husband, this more or less kept up with the time. I don’t like wearing a watch, which is maybe why I am attracted to this clock. The little pink flowers and the pale leaves among the deep green and their shadows go well with the numerals and the sunburst round the dial.

Star Mirror

Our home is so full of things, picked up here and there, and the garden walls are also hung with objects. It is a method of  decoration that is accumulation, with a space found for a new object add to the accumulation: this is not interior nor exterior design. More a “Burglar Bill” approach. Most things have a history before we acquire them. However, the garden itself has a pattern, and the garden shed is a miracle of organisation. Still, many things are piling up, they kind of shuggle into place, and if some bookcases are hang from walls, or set up on tables, then so what.

Reflections in River Leet

The year has been going past, fast, and I have been told that I should put words and images once more on WordPress. This is true: I should. An idea came sideways at me, and every spare moment I am up in the Tardis working, hiding the work from everyone, not saying a word; don’t know why. It’s all light-hearted in feeling. But I have missed WordPress (all interactions have been interesting and often delightful); so I will try and write just a few words each day, will catch up with sites I am following, and when the present slight obsession has been put into a form where I can bear to have it looked at, I will pick up my camera and go out into the countryside of the Borders and enjoy the light in this beautiful part of the world, where I am so fortunate to live.

May Hedgerow

Mustard Garlic and Orange Tip Butterfly

This little butterfly has the most beautiful underwings, like someone in a plain dress with exquisite petticoats. I looked up the colouring, and found out that this is a female orange tip – which doesn’t have an orange tip, apparently. By total chance, a friend called in today and was talking (out of the blue) about consulting a gardener about a plant in her garden that she thought was a weed ; and she was told that orange tips lay their eggs on the underleaf of this plant. When I described it we agreed it must be mustard garlic that was growing in her garden. So in one day I have found out the name of a plant, identified a butterfly, and been told something about its life cycle.

May in May

Trees in April 2

Field