A garden is never static, colours change throughout the seasons, always movement, fragrance and whispers… From first butterflies, garden filled with birdsong, the somnolent drone of bees. High in the cloudless sky “cree, cree!” Three eagles soar, flying lessons for baby. Parents circling and encouraging, borne on eagles wings…

No, nothing is changeless but always in flux; from pinks and purples, to hot red, orange, yellows and cooling white. High summer in the garden

My allotment was always filled with Borage and Wild Chamomile, but still to find their place here. The weeding never seems to end, back to the front garden now overrun with weeds

Whatever you do today, celebrate the changes!

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