Many of you have complained that reading outdoors has its downsides: creepy crawlies, hayfever, too much glare from the sun, the heat… So how about these balconies for a tolerable compromise? I should add that it’s a shame that not very many British homes have usable balconies, possibly because the weather is not that conducive to sitting outside to read and write… or else developers are trying to cut down on costs.
As autumn draws near, can there be anything more beautiful than Japanese maples bringing colour and balance to the calm contemplative harmony of a Japanese garden?
As the climate grows hotter and drier in summer, soon all of our gardens may face the same challenges as these roof gardens. But aren’t they dreamy, especially in the summer heat?
Thank you to Guy Savage for suggesting that we take a look at the luxurious garden follies of the 18th and 19th centuries. I may have widened the remit somewhat to include architectural follies from around the world, but the UK seems to have the highest number. What that says about the Brits, I don’t know…
A really fun prompt at dVerse Poets Pub today: to write ‘echo poetry’. An Echo Verse is a poem where the last word or syllable in a line is repeated or echoed underneath to form a rhyming liner. My attempt below is just a quick sprint, inspired by conversations between my parents (and of course the first line of a poem by T.E. Brown). But there are some far more wonderful examples linked up to the site, both funny and thoughtful, so I strongly urge you to check them out.
A garden is a lovesome thing, God wot!
Even in a heat wave, there’s bliss to be found.
Ferns, palm-shade, pool to cool us down…
Flowers burst forth in coloured refrain.
Oh, you’re such a philistine and bore!
My floppy bag sufficient to fit all the harvest:
in it I also gather eggshells discarded by chicks.
I lay your boots and spade neatly to rest inside the shed.
Played the gardener enough for today – this week – this month.
So easy to forget in today’s sun-stillness:
those moments I flare in nervous thrall –
when is the shift to sandstorm season?
It’s there in the echo of last cuckoo-call.
Musing about the change of seasons with a little help from Sappho tonight. Please join us over at dVerse Poets Pub, where we are celebrating that wonderful free-forming, room-for-all event that is Open Link Night.