Glass houses..but no Stones.

 My journey each school day took me through the Belfast Botanic Gardens. Cast iron and glass...wonderful.

In the mornings it was always a run... I was a sleepyhead...

...the home journey often saw me with friends walking through the wonderful glass house and  past the exotic plants contained within.

Banana trees and palms, plants from the South American forests in the hottest part of the glass house.....steamy and junglelike.

Like so many of these amazing structures...it was decimated during the years of the troubles...but has now been restored back to it's full glory.

The  next glass house that took my breath away was in Croxteth Walled Garden and held the remains of the plant collection belonging to Liverpool Botanics. I believe that they were held also in Sefton Park Glasshouse in Liverpool.

Once a month in 2018 I walked in it with a friend @barbarajones met on the BA art degree course at Wirral Met.

But this week I went with a Warrington Camera Club ..and explored the newly renovated Glass House in Walton Gardens. We used to go to the gardens when the children were small and even then the glass houses were desolate...no plants..no care..but Warrington Borough Council have done an amazing job to bring them back to use and wonder...

.... and Myerscough College keep the plants looking their best..

There's something magic about walking into a hot, spicey, exotic, steamy plant house.

The colours assault your senses...and everywhere is water... dripping from leaves...spilling into floral cups...fish swimming in patterned pools.

...and oh those flowers...nothing like the flowers in my garden...

Nothing shy about these flowers...they shout ."Look at me".

Cups of colour...creating tiny swimming pools...

...mysterious shadows in the watery depths of the hottest part ....like creatures from another planet....

*

I'm loving my return to blogland...but can I mention that there are often daily pics on my Instagram account also ... maybe I'll see you there..

Sunday walk...slow living.

A slow Sunday walk in woods...by water...with a little tea room nearby...

...what could be more soul restoring.

Crisp beech leaves underfoot and a mild autumn breeze kept the spirits up and the soul healthy.

The walk is by the river Kent, the woods are Ashmeadow woods and they take you up the side of the river so your view is just wonderful. Ash trees are scarce now days but the beech thrive and here and there tall sturdy oak trees reach to the blue sky like queens surveying their domain.

There are gaps in the foliage and the river on Sunday was blue with the sky's reflection...

...off in the distance the railway bridge spans the waters as a white sculpture...

The tide was out and the boats lay on the muddy edge with dogs and fishermen taking advantage of this last warm spell before winter settles in for the cold months.

We sat on a bench with a cup of steaming hot tea in our hands and chocolate cake to share from the  little hut that is the tea room....

...then made our way back to the bay home inspired by the beauty of nature and the generosity of it all... ...and were glad.

The japanese maple in the yarden in Morecambe is losing it's beautiful leaves so I made a collage of them as we sat in the back room with a fire to warm and the soft candle glow to cheer.

Thankful.

 

Sunday Walk in Walton.

 Walton Hall and Gardens by the canal.

The Bridgewater Canal

...a place of trees and reflections and old stone bridges...

Autumn has come late to Walton...the leaves are just about hanging on to the chestnut trees and gently floating down to join the cherry and ginkho leaves already on the ground.

The wind that blew the leaves around earlier in the week has calmed and no longer do they dance and whirl in circles. The old pond has a smattering of them on the surface turning the water's reflection to an Axminster carpet.

Like enormous rhubarb leaves the gunnera by the pond droops and dies down and pulls it's growing energies in for winter.

When the children were little we used to frequent Walton regularly as it has a little zoo and a good play area... but the glass house was smashed and empty...it always reminded me of my walks to school in Belfast through the Botanic Gardens and the old glass houses there.

Now they haver been restored..a joy to see.

I plan to go back again and just wander in them,

Much credit to The Walton Lea Job Scheme and the work of Myerscough College.

October and still the garden shows off it's glory.

Today might be the 30th October but the sun shines and the autumn colours glow in the low light 

 catching the yellowing leaves and washed out flowers on the dark red hydrangea bush.

Birch trees get cuddled by a large leafed climber...now it stretches up into the very top branches.

...and the vine has morphed from green to cream...and cream to pink..

...what a showoff!

Against the sharp blue sky the crimson leaves of the staghorn tree explode with a last blast of energy.

...but

I thought the nasturtiums would long ago have turned to mush... still they bloom and catch the morning dew so handsomely on their spicey leaves.

Gone are all the chestnuts from the two conker trees at the bottom of the  field...gone into the winter hoards of the many squirrels living in their drays in the old sycamore trees.

 ...how many more days of autumn sun will we have?...tomorrow is All Hallows Evening...Samhain in the old ways...a midpoint between equinox and midwinter and it has always been a time of festival for people who live close to the land.

Stay safe and be blessed.

May...or may not!

 Well April was dry...and now May is wet, windy and cold.

But even so the hidden garden at The Potters House Penketh is blooming.

The cherry tree has excelled itself with blossom...the hope is ripe cherries in June...as long as those pesky birds don't pinch the lot.

Although I curse the ever expanding plot of bluebells in June when the leaves turn slimey after the bells have seeded......nevertheless in May when they glow in the evening golden hour...I'm always glad that they are still there. 

Forgetmenots and bluebells...they grow themselves.

And that's a good thing...as I'm not the world's greatest seed sower.

Carole Klein may say.."Just throw them in...they want to grow"...I must be buying the wrong seed packets!

However I must have done something right as the Japanese chocolate vine has also rambled into an even more wonderful concoction of twisting stems and branches over the wood shed...I suspect it is even responsible for holding that old structure together!

I'm not sure if this is Walt..(wall brown) or Woody..(wood brown)...but I love how they dance together in May. 

Almost always seen in pairs...may be just brown but oh how they can dance.

"Let nothing trouble you...Let nothing scare you...All things pass"!...St. Teresa of Avila

April's best week.

 

This is the week where the leaves unfurl

where the blossom excels

where frog spawn becomes tadpoles

where the sun is warm at noon

but the evenings are cool and you throw on another woolly sweater. 

The Labyrinth
Above the grassy labyrinth

Wood browns flirt and flutter in pairs

Catching rays of gold

On mottled wings.

So new life emerges

Playful and coquettish

To fly and suck

On summer's nectars.

The struggle from

The winter's binding

Strengthening flight

And damp moss perfumes

Dappled sunlight.

While blackbirds claim

Old Territories and sing.

 

A spring haze that makes a watercolour painting of  trees
Bathes pink and soft green tops on sky stretched branches.
The land wakens with misty light and water gives growth
As hill and mountain overflow with bubbling springs.
Late afternoon still air glows rose on lazy strollers
And the chill sends them indoors to slump
Contentedly in front of smokey wood burning fires.

Sowing for the Summer

 

Half way through March already.

Today is spring equinox.

Also known as "Ostara"

And celebrated around the world.

Spring Celebrations Around the World

In ancient Rome, the followers of Cybele believed that their goddess had a consort who was born via a virgin birth. His name was Attis, and he died and was resurrected each year during the time of the vernal equinox on the Julian Calendar (between March 22 and March 25). 

A dynasty of Persian kings known as the Achaemenians celebrated the spring equinox with the festival of No Ruz, which means "new day." It is a celebration of hope and renewal still observed today in many Persian countries, and has its roots in Zoroastrianism. In Iran, a festival called Chahar-Shanbeh Suri takes place right before No Ruz begins, and people purify their homes and leap over fires to welcome the 13-day celebration of No Ruz.

The indigenous Mayan people in Central American have celebrated a spring equinox festival for ten centuries. As the sun sets on the day of the equinox on the great ceremonial pyramid, El Castillo, Mexico, its "western face...is bathed in the late afternoon sunlight. The lengthening shadows appear to run from the top of the pyramid's northern staircase to the bottom, giving the illusion of a diamond-backed snake in descent." This has been called "The Return of the Sun Serpent" since ancient times.

I'm trying to sow at least two trays of seeds each day...I've rather over stretched the packet situation...again!!

...meanwhile the chocolate vine is starting to bloom...

...and the light will last a little longer each day until the autumn equinox...

...morning arrives with light on the birch bark..

 

..buds burst expectantly on all the fruit trees, apple, cherry, plum, medlar, pear...

..and the grape vine sends out new tendrils and weaves it's way through the old love seat at the bottom of the herb garden...

...king alfred daffodils pop up in places I'd forgotten about at the bottom of the field...

...and the lingering evening sun encourages me to stay a while in the garden.

Here's to the "coming of the light"...as Hockney says...

“I had always planned to make a large painting of the early spring, when the first leaves are at the bottom of the trees, and they seem to float in space in a wonderful way. But the arrival of spring can't be done in one picture.” — David Hockney