So lots of flowers in the garden, duck still on nest, sunshine and no rain.
Saturday, sun and I forgot to shut the shed so at dusk I went out to do so and as I turned to the house a white ghost floated past from the garden - the silent magic of a barn owl.
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So, what to do with all the photos of the garden?
Obviously inflict them on you -
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The garden seems dominated by white and yellow at the present, even the bark on the birches are shining and the honesty is in full flood even escaping into the horse paddock next door.
But then there is the woodland where a dry stream tumbles out of the upper garden. The forked tree on the right is a field maple.
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With the dry weather I am having to top up the pond but that is okay as we have our own borehole. And bees are buzzing on the skimmia outside the kitchen -
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These tulips have flowered year on year fort a decade, orange is R's favourite colour.
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All the camellias are loaded with flowers, the best they have ever been and on Friday we walked to the church and R put a small posy on the memorial where her mothers ashes are.
Easter Sunday service online with the Archbishop of Canterbury and the vicar from our nephew's church in Ealing.
I know this us an early blog but with the virus I have so much time to wander the garden with my camera, so . . .
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