and so about the afterlife

  and so about the afterlife I say to him, you see my mum and I are standing at opposite ends, she not able to imagine that we who think and feel - her voice just like frail hands against a heavy door - might be no more whereas I well I struggle even to…

Lullaby to a garden

  To my sleeping garden this weightless lullaby a quiet outlook from a frosty window As in grey winter light the blackbird is black and the grass is revealed with the rigour of morn As the sycamore gone still inhabits the sky and homeless the grey heron flies So my patience is wantless and serene…

Garden diary

I can feel the sap thickening in my veins. I can't wait for Autumn to come, the bulbs to plant, etc. I feel dizzy. Of course, gardening helps me cope with worries. All I have at the moment is bad quality multipurpose compost. No potting compost, nor seed compost, nor grit, nor anything worth working…

Longing

End of April. Plane trees - platanus hispanica - are now sailing along in the clear morning light. Horse chestnut-trees and paulownias have reached the peak of their beauty. The time of the euphorbia has passed. The time of the wisteria is drawing to an end.   (Euphorbia near Pernety, purple wisteria in Rue des…

My garden in mid-July

News from the gardening front. Well, "front" probably conjures the wrong metaphor, as there isn't much to do in the garden in mid-July, apart from deadheading (and mowing the lawn, but we still don't have a working lawn-mower...). I just want to share some pictures of tiny miracles. As usual, click on the pictures to…