I’m feeling slightly overwhelmed by the amount of photographs I have taken lately! This time of year turns the garden in to a whole new kind of paradise that I will ne’er tire of, will never lose
my appreciation for, no matter how many times I photograph it. I feel as if it were my duty to recognise, capture and preserve it in my own little way: the bluebells, the apple blossoms, the rhododendrons, wild garlic, wisteria hanging in boughs above walls and houses. I shall organise it in to parts, and will record as best I can before everything comes away for the next season.
I will take you on a journey behind the house. We’ll take the crumbling stone steps by the back of the laboratory and head up through the wild grasses and shrubbery until we meet the beck and the wall at the back of the garden. We’ll take a left, away from the bubbling beck.
Up and down, o’er the hills and down through the clearings, we’ll tread, following the trodden down path we can barely make out in the sweet grasses. There are bluebells here, dashes of blue here and there in the embankments, but they are only a promise of what is to come.
Over the hill and far away… here I have found a great wonderland of bluebells, completely secluded from, and a secret to, the rest of the garden, even to the deer. It belongs solely to the noisy selection of bees, and cabbage whites, that frequent the place. The carpet of blue is thick and lush, untouched and glorious. The bluebells, together in their number, give off a honey like scent, mixed with the warm smell of the earth. I love how the petals of little flower heads are curled at the ends, like tiny fairy skirts, unctuous shades of blue and indigo, white and violet.
We’ll kneel amongst the flowers and watch bumblebees and honey bees fall clumsily from flower to flower around us, basking in the sun and listening to their sweet hum. Moss collects on our clothes and comes away shrivelled on our fingertips. The balmy breeze turns, and cabbage whites and orange tips come out from nowhere, flitting together and apart.
The trees, the flowers, the mayflies, butterflies, bees, all giddy with May’s sweet syrup, enjoying the sunshine, milking the day for all its worth. They are hungry and dancing in their secluded den and not for a moment will they notice that we’re here. Under the softly blowing canopies of trees do we watch the world go by and relish our freedom.
What do you think about my little virtual garden tour? Do stay tuned for the next in the series, where you are invited in to the orchard with Oscar and I for apple blossoms! I will bid farewell, for it is at this point that I go and lose myself in the bluebells and retreat to a land of elves ♡