How does my garden grow?

Sweet Violet.

Hellebore.

Fancy Muscari.

Drumstick Primula.

May's Primrose.

Eggbox daffodils

I remember making eggbox daffodils when I was at primary school in the 70s...it was lovely to see their enthusiasm for this retro activity.

Plastic piglet

Hama beads....rather addictive!

Cannon Hall farm 2

Contentment.

New lambs.

Piglet.....aw....look at his little snuffling snout.

Cannon Hall farm

Cute..cute..cute...

Happiness is....

Beautiful pig.

Nice hairdo.

Woolly pigs! Sheep-pigs!

Easter

Beautiful daffodils and pussy willow..I love the tissue paper like petals that are just about to unfurl.

I always remember the daffodils we used to make at primary school using egg boxes for the centres.

Sun and moon from Portugal.

Swallow from Portugal..there were so many flying around.

Easter card.

Spring in Portugal 3

Poetry on the beach...

This amused us...it was in every shop up the same street!

Beautiful mosaic fish in the new paved precinct at Armenco de Pera.

Almond delights...in every shape imaginable, lobsters, alligators and budgies even!

Spring in Portugal 2

Lots of yellow wild flowers in every field and roadside verge.

I loved the sculptural qualities of this "octopus" plant.

Like some triffid..I'm sure it could walk...

Beautiful pompom flowers on these seaside plants at Gale.

Spring in Portugal

I love the beautiful, sugared-almond coloured buildings...these are in Carvoeiro.

Armenco de Pera.

The sea is so blue and wild here on the Algarve.

Sandcastle at Gale beach.

Fisherman at Gale.

***

Portuguese Postcard

An avenue of squat palms and the

cascading yellow of Mimosa pompoms

on a journey that seems endless;

racing swallows through the stirring

skeletons of ancient vineyards.

Oranges trussed up in red nets

punctuate the dusty roadside

waiting patiently on tired,

old trestle tables shaded from

the early sun by a faded, lilac sheet.

And the blue bucket and yellow spade

are overawed by the white sea foam.

Did the lobster ever claw its way out

and ask if there was sugar?

There’s sand left between the pages

unturned, unfinished thoughts and

conversations hang achingly near.

Buttermilk facades reflect the

gentle warmth, coaxing burgeoning

growth on the fecund fig; green

polyps of promise for a luscious,

lazy lunch later in the season.

White star flowers polka-dot the

lemon tree already heavy with

tantalising citrus tears. Sprigs of

verdant mint spike upwards

pushing rebelliously through

sun-bleached decking.

Lavender flags line the

route to the pretty pale

alabaster memorials

where floral wreaths mark

the place where earthly love

was laid to rest.

And tied up with pretty, pink

ribbon a basket wrapped in

cellophane; a gift for a life’s

new beginning.