Friday Fun: Romantic Doorways

Doorways into secret gardens bring the promise of forbidden delights, paradise into the everyday and nostalgia of childhood forays into the fruit orchard. Plus, as winter darkness and damp drizzly mornings begin, it offers a remembrance of better days…

The White Rabbit Doorway in Atlanta Homes.
Quintessential cottage garden style, from
Traditional gate designed by Dan Ascbach.
Wrought iron beauty from
Simple beauty in Italy, from Birds and Baking on Tumblr.
Architectural focal point, from Jamie Forbert Architects.
Not really a gateway, but a wonderful space for thinking and dreaming about what lies beyond, from

17 thoughts on “Friday Fun: Romantic Doorways”

  1. Oh Italy! Italy! I just yearn to tiptoe through that gate. Beyond looks so lush. And like Madame Bibi, The Secret Garden was THE book of my childhood. I guess there may be many fiercely stroppy, passionate, independent, natural world adoring little girls whose hearts still flame Mary Like in responsible grown women, booky bloggers all. Mary’s self reliance, steel and great warmth, not to mention her wonderful imagination all seem very effectively readerish.

    I feel that The Secret Garden FORMED me, in many ways. Or at least, let me look in a mirror and see myself delineated. Now, if ONLY robins would alight on me, as they do on blessed Dickon!

    1. I utterly loved The Secret Garden too and was very disappointed that my boys didn’t take to it (I wonder if it is because they were boys, although they didn’t take to Swallows and Amazons either, so perhaps it’s not that). We should do a Secret Garden appreciation joint post all of us some day!

  2. I love those doorways! There’s just something about them that holds promise, if I can put it like that. I especially like the cottage garden door, Marina Sofia, but they’re all lovely.

  3. Oh to have a garden that could accommodate any of those beautiful gates – I shall have to consider getting one for the middle of my allotment 🙂

  4. Love all the doorways and gateways, the iron work, the flowers.
    Now where I live, there are few to see. The gates that do exist are not covered
    with flowers, alas.

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