I planted a small deciduous Azalea in the front garden when we first came here. I didn’t have much hope that it would survive because our soil is poor and damp, and at one stage I thought it was dead. But this spring these beautiful, tightly furled buds are finally open, looking like crushed silk.
swirls the creases
from her kimono
Inspired by a great watercolourist, I’m beginning another flower painting. Excited to see how this turns out…
…every time I try to paint flowers I think ‘never again’. Maybe this time it might go better.
honey scent of gorse on the summer hill
the contented hum of bees
dreams that resurface as the light fades
and the night grows long
colours and shapes
of a city
‘The flowers appear on the earth; the time of singing has come, and the voice of the turtledove is heard in the land.’
Song of Solomon 2:12