the trees are varied, and the deer don't eat my fruit or flowers.
The runners and cyclists on the Boulder trails are serious and intense, keeping fit, stretching themselves. Few of them respond to a good morning or hello, even though generally Boulderites are warm, chatty and hospitable. The people on the Monsal Trail - though retiring Brits - seem to find it easier to greet a friendly passer-by.
This is the view over my front garden wall:
This is the elderflower that grew from a cutting from my parents' garden:
Here is one of my borders:
I'm finally over my jetlag and am tackling the pile of admin that's built up on my desk over the last three weeks. I've also just picked my gooseberries, and am picking strawberries every day. Soon it will be the blackcurrants. My sweet peas are yellow and sickly and I've just dosed them up with sequestered iron. My blackbird still sings at 4 in the morning. It's good to be home.
3 comments:
Lovely photos of your garden Sue. I do agree, it's lovely to go traveling, near or far, but always great to come back home. Sally
Such a heartwarming post, Sue Reminds us all to count our blessings and remember what is irreplaceable about home
Love the photos!
Thank you, Sally and Ana.
And it's so good to be here that waking up to heavy rain, as I have this morning, doesn't dent the feeling.
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