Every Garden I go to this year seems to have a stunning array of purple plants. I love them. From Iris to Allium, the power of purple is strong!
Every Garden I go to this year seems to have a stunning array of purple plants. I love them. From Iris to Allium, the power of purple is strong!
This week’s Photo Challenge is Off -Season.
This rose was caught with a very unseasonal frost, an unfortunate product of living on the high moors!
The Weekly Challenge is Serenity. For me, there is nothing more serene than an english garden in Summer, a gentle breeze, the sounds of bees and the aroma of lavender. So this picture really sums up Serenity for me.
I don’t know why, but this little flower sums up the great British Summer for me…
Weekly Photo Challenge for some other interpretations of Summer
Following on from last week’s seasonal challenge. This week Ceen Photography has set the challenge of ” Summer”.
This first image sums up Summer for me, the sound of honey bees and a gorgeous sunflower…
The next is another Summer favourite of mine…butterflies. I think its a Painted Lady, but happy to be corrected 🙂
Finally, a close up of a favourite Summer flower, Dahlias
Check out other summery photos at Cee’s blog
This is a photo of the local community of swallows preparing to leave for the long journey south to Africa. They return every year to this little village on Exmoor, raising their young, providing a wonderful display of aerobatic grace, so I hope their journey was successful.
Ah Sunflower, weary of time,
Who countest the steps of the sun;
Seeking after that sweet golden clime
Where the traveller’s journey is done;
Where the Youth pined away with desire,
And the pale virgin shrouded in snow,
Arise from their graves, and aspire
Where my Sunflower wishes to go!
Wooden soldiers
Tall and strong
Guarding woodlands
In rows so long.
Hard and fast
Taller than grass
Grown to last
of old, cut as a mast.
Reaching skyward
Surveying all around
Casting long shadows westward
Towering flora that abound.
New saplings now old
One story they have told
Deep roots make them bold
As branches unfold
Some older than man
Cast deep in the ground
Hid the old clan
Felt the wet nose of a hound.
Lovers lay beneath it’s branches
basking in the sun
Exhausted from their horizontal fun
Beads of sweat, down their bodies run.
Words of love trip off their tongue.
Tall and mighty
Bark textured rough
Their leaves small and flighty
Young children’s shoes did scuff
Catching their dreams
As they climb so high
Of rescuing maidens
From pirates near by.
With bows and not so straight arrows
They grin and they smile
As they aim at a sparrow
and miss by a mile.
From it’s branches they do swing
Hanging by a limb
Lot of noise, not muffled din.
Hot summer, time to swim.
Winter cold we are born
One of strife
To this we are sworn
This, the cycle of life
Into Spring we bound
New lambs bleating
Listen to their sound
Rains stop sleeting
From teens to thirties with a whoop
All around we group.
Along came the forties
In a Summer so bright
Some say the naughties
Everything seems so right.
Into Autumn
Life is a dash
This we tell them
Passes in a flash.
Back into Winter
A peaceful sigh
Dirty and black like sinter
Life passes by
We close our eyes
Each of us we die.
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