Bird song...loud enough to wake the sleepiest...
...daylight creeping through the gap in the curtains earlier and earlier...
... and I creep out of the bedroom without waking the sleeping potter...
...down the creaking stairs...why do all stairways creak?...
...kettle on for a cuppa and a hottie...a hottie?...well I'm going out into the garden and traipsing down the field to the summerhouse with camera and book and a hottie just in case it's a wee bit chilly down there.
...snuggle up into a wicker chair with a blanket
tucked over my legs.......excellent...luxury....wonderful!
The sun is just rising at the front of the house and a mist has turned the trees to pale gold...
...six in the morning ...and all is well...
..
....and the sun makes it's way through the alleyway where the sunbeams dance in the mistiness...
...soon the mist dissapates and the old apple tree receives the strengthening sunbeams
filling the path in the potter's allotment...
I settle down to listen to the birds...and watch them search for food in the dew washed grass...
...food to keep their progeny plump and happy.
The working day soon takes over
and the garden is deserted.
But evening brings with it the western light...low in the sky...and a glimpse out of a window reveals another garden altogether...
...no mist here...
... the air is sharp for a May day this year... but that brings with it hard light and long crisp shadows stretching along the grass.
...the blue of the bluebells seems almost iridescent in this light...
... May's foliage is soft and emerald green...
..the smell of the bluebells intoxicating..
...it draws me out..back down the path ...
...under the arch..
..into another world.
