Monochrome zone: a black and white walk round my village today

A Black and White walk round my village today. I just love it that a in a stride about outside  all bright shades have been erased and noise is muffled and bleached out. Snow glare has sapped  tone and hue from the palette and turned the gaze over to sharp silhouettes. Please do follow us!

The planting in the Olympic Park

For the East Angle travelling by train, Stratford is the gateway to the City and beyond.  For years we have had to rely on the bus shelter and railway station to give a whisper of the brave new world under construction.  And now for the price of a ticket to a sporting event;  the opportunity…

And so WHAT do YOU want from your garden then?

Stripping away and paring back the overgrowth in my own plot, I have been musing and pondering the while. On the pint pot scale, this is milk bottle size and weirdly enough we have dug a rich seam of these out of the bank down the far end.  Archeology in the making.    In reality…

Lush and jungly planting at Glyndebourne

Do these plants get high on arias?  The planting in the borders at Glyndebourne is in the exuberant category.  Grounded in the  lovely bones of ha-ha  and paths and steps of brick, the shrubs and flowers seem to spring out of the beds and hurry about.  The energy is added to  by the huge view…

Rest assured at Wrest Park

Bedfordshire?  Never given it much thought beyond gritting my teeth over the drive to Luton airport.  A prejudice I don’t mind defending as many have never heard of Suffolk, where I’m from, at all. This non view got swept into a cocked hat or french drain two days back when travels along a beaded necklace…

Welcome to Hound’s-tongue

May shading into June is the best time for long country walks in the East of the country.  The wildflowers are dazzling and bewildering in their massed numbers.  They are waving in the breeze  across water meadows, down remote lanes and garlanding heathland leading to an inlet of the sea.  This past weekend the Borage…

So, David Hockney it is over, but not quite.

Thousands of us  stood and jostled  in the grand rooms up the stair of the Royal Academy to see the rendering of our countryside by David Hockney.  And returned home with eyes on stalks to stare at our surrounding woods and fields.  To look at them anew without the mind overpowering  the senses.  I have…

A feast of spring buds

Forget the daffodils.  The high-point  of spring is the dancing buds and dazzle of early flowers on  trees.   Warm March and the wettest week of April that I can remember has brought out that flush of new leaf colour with pleated leaves unfolding and flowers bursting out in remarkable colour. I visited a garden…