White Rose, Pink Rose

I don't want to brag
but...

Boule de Neige

all month long
the roses in my garden
have rambled

Dr. W. van Fleet

and scrambled
and climbed

Zephirine Drouhin

and bloomed
with fragrant perfection.

Iceberg

I just wish I had spent
more time in the garden
enjoying them.

Constance Spry

Must try harder
next year.

Gillyflowers

Old fashioned frilly Pinks
fill the room with the scent of cloves.

They are Shakespeare's flowers
that Perdita spoke of in
'The Winters Tale'

"...the fairest flowers o' the season
Are our carnations, and streak'd gilly-flowers..."

The name 'gillyflowers' comes from
the Old English word for clove : 'gilofre'
It is now more commonly used for summer stocks
but it was originally used for scented pinks.

The variety names are delightfully old fashioned:
Doris
Ada
Mrs Sinkins

The sight of these flowers reminded me of a bouquet
gathered for Mary, Queen of Scots, by Penelope
in 'A Traveller in Time' by Alison Uttley.

Adam, the ancient gardener, describes it:
"Here's a bed of sops-in-wine
I've raised myself from cuttings from the Duke's place,
and here's heart's-ease,
although the young mistress calls 'em
by a new fanciful name ...'Pauncies'...
Here's holy-hocks, and these is pinks,
but what I likes is sweet williams
and sweet johns and sweet nancies..."

It is not surprising
this book from my childhood
remains within easy reach.

*****

This week is a succession of meetings
to check,consider, discuss and agree
the examination results for the Department.
I will be swimming in a sea of careful words.
Looking forward to crawling out the other side.

In The Rose Garden

We had tea on the terrace;
freshly baked scones
tiny pastries.

Then we walked over the moat
to the rose garden.

Pillars and swags wrapped
with the soft colours of early summer:

blush
ivory
shell

Wide banks of cat-mint
fluttering with butterflies

Enclosed by clipped hedges
and tall pastel foxgloves.

Is there a more pleasant way
to spend an afternoon?

I think not.

A posy from the garden

for my daughter.

My mother always leaves a tiny posy for me
when I go home.
Yesterday, when I picked these flowers
I thought of her
and hoped that,
one day,
my daughter will do the same.

Tulips

There are days
when you believe that
Winter will last forever.

Then one morning
you open the curtains,
sunlight illuminates the tulips,
you know that Summer is nearly here,
and you wonder why you ever doubted it.

Happy May Day.

This post is dedicated
with love
to my friend
Bobby.

The Precinct Walls

It was the toadflax that started it;
tiny lavender flecks clinging to grey stone

and then there was the lilac,
heavy scented in the still air.

My husband and daughter waited patiently
as I climbed on a bench to photograph forget-me-not

and leaned over old railings
to capture pale magnolia.

I know now that was all leading up
to this one perfect moment:

then I put my camera away...
I was done.

Snow in April

My Japanese cherry tree
is in full bloom.

The whiteness of the blossom
quite startling
against the Spring blue sky.

Little breezes create
petal flurries

and the grass beneath
is downy with April snow.

Anemone blanda

After a long winter
I glimpse sunshine
on blue anemones
and I know that
it is time to return
to the garden.

There is much to do.

Creative Imperative

Why should the urgent necessity
to photograph THIS flower on THAT plate
arrive in my brain, fully formed?

I may NOT finish the coffee that I am drinking.
I may NOT consider alternatives:
it MUST be THIS flower on THAT plate.

And so the cofeee is left to cool
in the sunny kitchen,
the camera is found,
the flower picked
the plate washed.

And then the photo is taken.

Snowdrops

Milstead Parish Church

Sunday morning

at the end of winter

Camellias

Camellia 'Liberty Bell'

Some people dream of roses around the front door
to scent the air on balmy summer evenings.

I have rose coloured camellias
around the dining room window
to give me moments of joy
on the cold, grey mornings of February.

It is a different sort of dream, I suppose.

*******

Edited to add:
I realised later that
it is the dream of a pessimist
who expects the grey days in life.
Perhaps I should request a David Austin catalogue.

Golden Harvest...

Thirty years ago I worked on a daffodil farm.
In the height of summer
I would walk through the sloping fields
surrounded by labels:

St. Keverne
Golden Harvest
White Lion
Jack Snipe

And even now boxes of tight buds
evoke not the shallow sunshine of spring
but the hot dusty days of August
and trays of warm bulbs:

Dutch Master
Ice Follies
Carlton
Cheerfulness

Orchids

How do you feel about orchids?
Do you like them?
I thought I didn't...
but I was wrong.

This burgundy and ivory orchid was bought on a whim
and is a source of unexpected pleasure.
The tall sprays of slim green buds have opened
to reveal elegant, exotic blooms.

It is really called 'Bartley Schwartz'
which seems a cruel fate...
I think it needs a stage name.

Eye Candy

I looked at my blog today
and I felt sad.

There was a picture of some pebbles
and a crumpled sheet.

It is probably a fair reflection
of my life at the moment...

...but it is not what I want to look at
in the morning.

Lisianthus

I am momentarily distracted

the fold and curls!

the frills!

the sorbet colours!

the pearlescent sheen!

A stern voice inside my head says

"Get back to the ironing...
You are PROCRASTINATING"

*****

Thank you all for joining in yesterday -
you are the BEST group of comment box pals...
and so very generous with your friendship.

Asters

I am a late-comer to the Aster Party.

I don't think I have ever bought them
before this year.
Such bright warm colours...
such fresh soft leaves...

I can't imagine why
I didn't know about them before

Anemone japonica

In my head
my garden has drifts of Japanese Anemones.
They catch the autumn sunshine
and glow against the brickwork.

In reality they don't exist.
Every time I plant them
they shrivel and die.
It seems so unfair when I see other gardens
where they are practically a weed.

I want to have my own
'Honorine Joubert'
I really, really want some.
Life can be so cruel.

Perhaps I will plant some more this year.
Hope never dies.

A Kaleidoscope of Gladioli

I love the bold statement of Gladioli;
petals as vibrant as wax crayons
unfurling slowly from day to day.

cobalt

carmine

glacier white

canary

chartreuse

(NOT lime, I am SO over lime)