Rosebay Willow Herb, Foxgloves, Blackberry blossom, Pale Flax, Meadowsweet, Thistles, Daisies......We've been talking about re-wilding. It's a word we picked up recently. There are a few . . .
These dreamy days. The scent of meadowsweet. Foxgloves swaying in the summer breeze. Everything a tangle of lush green. I am following a whim to return to this special space. This small . . .
I hear myself saying- I don't know what I'm doing. And there's a freedom in that. I say it, often in the most inappropriate places, only to discover that . . .
There’s a Girl Inside There is a girl inside. She is randy as a wolf. She will not walk away and leave these bones to an old . . .
And somehow, yet again, everything came into bloom. Everything at once, so here I am celebrating the cultivated and the pristine. Sometimes the owners of land, property and gardens allow . . .
It is summer. Maybe it rains a bit too much, maybe it's been too cold to swim recently. But the flowering in the wild garden goes on regardless. "Weeds" as they are sometimes called, wrap . . .
An old Cherokee chief was teaching his grandson about life... "A fight is going on inside me," he said to the boy. "It is a terrible fight and it is . . .
It's been a busy time. The sun came out and that drew blossoms, bees and foxgloves into it's light. Then, against all the odds, it came out the next day too, and . . .
Everything is lush; the lane is coming into the best part of the year. I am besotted with green, tiny buds coming into flower, light as it illuminates petals and unfurling leaves. I wonder . . .
Come away, O human child! To the waters and the wild. With a faery, hand in hand. For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand. "The Stolen . . .