Archives for posts with tag: frost

Capturing the Sun

Fleeting frost

Ice and light captured

in chaliced leaf


First snow

Jack breezes in on the cold North wind

in a flurry of snow and ice;

Roaming the garden on starlit nights,

conjuring magic by pale moonlight;

With arms akimbo, casts his spell

and the ice-flowers grow where the magic fell;

Birling and swirling his wintry cloak

Stripping the leaves from beech and oak;

Summons the star-drops down from the sky

Each tiny leaf to beautify,

Winter sunset

Biding his time till the daylight wanes

Up he springs with a frost refrain –

Fantastic Mr Frost!


Frost is a bit of a novelty in this part of the world so enjoying its magic!

Happy Thanks Giving  to y’all!

Super moon

 Six a.m. Slide out of bed, feet reach for warm slippers; slip into cosy dressing gown; step out onto the cool landing into bright moonlight. Oscar ‘chirrups’ a gladsome greeting and takes the stairs in threes; runs into the chilly kitchen. Together we stand at the backdoor gazing across the silver lawn, crisscrossed by pale skeletal tree shadows. Bright white light pours through the skylight windows illuminating the kitchen. Os pleads to be let into the garden but far too cold for an early morning foray…

Later, walking gingerly across the frozen grass, he sniffs the air, pink nose bright in the crisp morning. Everything in the garden shines, frosted, etched in silvery-white. How delicate and fragile the flowers appear, frozen, chrystalised, translucent in the low sun…

Rosebuds, sweet peas, tiny tendrils, dusted leaves, powdered ice; now so vulnerable in the wintry air…

Fungi, fringed and frozen, rooted in time, no faeries feasted here of late. No voles or fearless mice; the tiny pitter-patter in the cottage, speaks of refuge from the biting weather…

Calendula and Cosmos hang down their heads, capitulate to the weather as birds gather at the feeders. Crow family stomp fearlessly across the frozen garden, or roost *gallusly in the bare Beech waiting for an opportune moment to snatch a snack!

Thanks for stopping by today – keep cosy winter’s here!

( *Gallus – Scottish – bold, cheeky or flashy)

Lady's mantle touched wiht frost

Mummy! Mummy, come and see

it is a sparkly day!

While we were fast asleep in bed

Jack Frost came out to play

Fern with frost

Mummy! Mummy, come and see

it’s a lovely sparkling dawn!

Diamonds on the winter flowers

and glitter on the lawn!


Mummy, Mummy, come and see

the gardens dressed in white!

Is that a sort of party dress; 

was there dancing in the night?

Mossy caterpillar

Mummy! Mummy, come and see

I’ve found a caterpillar!

Crawling on the garden wall –

what a funny fella!

The best is yet to come...

(Quieter now)

Mummy, Mummy! Come and see

The sky’s a funny grey; 

the rain is clinging to the trees,

Jack Frost has gone away…

(dedicated to a wee friend who, on seeing the frost, told her mum “It’s a sparkly day!”)

Thanks for stopping by and may you find time to wonder today!

“The Frost performs its secret ministry,

Unhelped by any wind…”

Frost at Midnight

Samuel Taylor Coleridge

The crescent moon shone steadily brighter as the setting sun sank with golden glow, beneath grey clouds, reflected in the darkening sea below. Midnight sky, punctuated with myriad stars twinkling in night’s dark canopy. Pale morning sun washing the world pink and silver, frosted morn, white lawn, crisp beneath our feet, leaf litter works of art. No wind to stir the fallen leaves, soft rays fill the garden with welcome warmth and light. Time to gather tools and begin the task of clearing away the winter debris. Beneath the sodden leaves and twigs, in silent solitude green shoots are springing. Not only plant life but bug-life too as tattered buds greet the air. Tidying, weeding, unearthing, cold fingers, cold toes, aching limbs; delighted to be in the garden working. Listening to the birdsong, watching the rooks gather twigs, smaller birds establishing territories. Singing, springing garden full of hope and promise, chiding my inattention. Turning mindfully to gather up the autumn- winter debris…

Looks like another day in the garden is beckoning, thanks for stopping by today

First snows - leaving already

“November comes
And November goes,
With the last red berries
And the first white snows…”

Clyde Watson


Friday; bitterly cold and grey but dry, so a quick “recce” to gather up and take stock in the garden after a week of “weather“. Saturday dawned pink and cold with the realisation -“thar’s snow on them thar hills!” But in the dawn light of Sunday morn, snow was already in retreat.

A skein of swans wend their way along the coast, snow white in the morning sun. As small birds fight for food at the feeders, robin chasing the chaffinch and great tits. Wren chatters nervously from the safety of the hedge, as blackbirds gather to strip the hedges of the last few berries. It seems they knew the cold was coming…

Fair weather skies

Sunday bathed in sunshine; blues skies and light cloud.Wrapping up warmly, we receive these days as gifts between the grey, rain-soaked weeks and venture outside. A short afternoon to enjoy the crisp dry day, marveling at the skies and fallen leaves; joining the dog walkers, avoiding the deep, muddy puddles…

Frosty sunset

Sunset falls in brilliant colours; setting sea and sky ablaze, even so the grass and moss are frozen; can we hope for frost or snow? A few weeks hence, sunset will set south of Ailsa Craig, marking the depth of winter and the solstice…


Rooks return to roost, a daily ritual, calling to his neighbors in deep raucous voice, before he too joins them in the fir trees and the garden falls to silent reverie…

Bright moonlight night

Moon-rise behind the trees, casting silver light and pale shadows across the garden. Sky of midnight blue set with a myriad of twinkling stars. Donning warm coats, we step out into the garden, Os held tightly in our arms. Breathing deep the frozen air, with upturned faces, marveling at the inherent beauty of a starlit sky.

Oscar trembles, eyes as big as saucers, sniffing the cold air, amazed at the night garden.  The strange white light and feeble shadows; whispers from the hedge-bank. We crunch over the frozen lawn, setting him down on the freezing ground, he looks surprised. Lifting each foot in turn, before he is gathered up and taken back inside.

Clear and frosty night

Across the bay, lights twinkling in the clear air, making plans to photograph the frosted garden; I wake to hear the wind and rain beating on the roof again. We don’t have seasons here – only weather!

Thanks for stopping by today – enjoy the weather – it’s raining here again !


Arran on a frosty morn

“How glorious a greeting the sun gives the mountains”

John Muir

One of the most beautiful books I have read was “The Garden of Evening Mists by Tan Twang Eng, invoking the art of Japanese gardening, the back drop to recovering a painful past.

As I stand in my half-acre garden, with its views over the Firth of Clyde, a back drop of beech trees and stand of pines, I feel they need included in the design. I love the idea of Shakkei-“borrowed landscape” – studying the landscape to take advantage of all favourable aspects.

Various gifts of plants  are still waiting to find their final setting; as I dig I find myself looking around for a suitable area, bearing in mind the fierce winds, frost hollows and the lie of the land sloping as it does to the north east…Sunset skyscape As the sun journeys north the dying rays reach deeper into the garden, filling the far corners. The sound of water; from a gentle chatter to wild roar, or of the wind whispering in the leaves to the howling gale. The texture and fragrance of the plantings; music of bird song. Sometimes I feel overwhelmed by the enormity of the task…

Evening rains at sea

The changing light and shade over the land; our belligerent Scottish weather, from thunderous rain to soft drizzle. Hot sunny days to frost all within twenty four hours! The glorious night sky when the moon pours a lullaby over the silvered garden opening to frosted morn…Visited by frost...

In the shadowed garden

scattered moonlight,

bestows a silvered tracery.