white blossoms and magician birds

Today is the first day of August in my part of the world. It opened with rain, and the skies have remained quiet, in shades of pearl and dream, ever since. There has been such a glorious soaking, these past few weeks - some of my flowers have prospered by it, but the fine-leafed rambling vine in my back yard was not strong enough, and I've lost all its lovely green. It was a weed, but a beautiful weed, and I can only hope it will come back again in the summer.

I saw a blackbird in my neighbour's garden today, looking like a magician king with his pure midnight coat and golden beak. I haven't seen one hereabouts for a long time. That garden suddenly has white jonquils in it, and early cheer. I hope to see my own spring bulbs blossoming again soon. They are only small, and never last long, but they give me such a lovely surprise when they appear all at once, as if out of the garden's sweet dreaming.

It seems to me that, although this is the month of new beginnings, it's mostly the month of returnings, reawakenings, as the dear old Wheel turns. But then, nothing is really new, is it? And if you look at it that way, you'll always have hope.

I have decided to encourage myself in writing a little something here every day, or almost every day to be realistic, by way of a nature diary. Although I come from a family of artists, I have no ability myself to draw, so a few nature notes, and sometimes a photo or two, will have to suffice.


  1. The other week, when the UK was experiencing a heatwave, a blackbird hopped into the living room, through the open patio door... I looked up from the book I was reading, he cocked his head, we made deep eye contact, he cocked his head the other way, and promptly turned and hopped out again.
    What a visitation!
    I must dig out my copy of 'The Country Diary of an Edwardian Lady' - it never get's old xx

  2. Happy August. Sounds a bit odd, but meant from the heart.
    I love your posts, your thoughts.
    Always look forward to them.