Whiter Shade of Pale

This is the third year since we moved into our house and the garden is slowly maturing.
Mature oaks stand guard, just beyond the southern boundary, shielding much of the garden from direct sunlight.


The obelisk, which we purchased a couple of years, no longer looks dumped at the bottom of the garden, as the planting is maturing. The white metalwork echoes the colour of the flowers surrounding it.

Wild rose grows prolifically in the local hedgerows, and we have encouraged it to grow within our garden as a deterrent - who wants to tangle unnecessarily with a rampant briar rose?









Now spring has passed, the mounds of small white flowers on the woodruff have faded away.

We have watched with delight as the foxgloves planted at the end of last year, and the beginning of this year, have matured.
In the evenings their campaniles of silent bells glow, as the setting sun sneaks under the heavy branches of the oak to illuminate their presence.

Soon their moment of glory will pass and the Japanese Anemones will take their place.

Last night I replaced the candles in the bottle lanterns. They really could do with a good clean to remove the film of sap and debris which has accumulated over the winter.

During the autumn and winter many acorns have fallen from the oak trees, only one managed to fall through the neck of a bottle...

As darkness fell, I lit the candles, and then waited until the last one had exhausted its supply of wax, before I went to bed.



On the other fence, the solar-powered lights bringing light to the darkness in gentle swathes.
It is fun to wait until it is dark, and then take a photo whilst deliberately moving the camera.







There are flowers in the garden of every hue - pale pinks, brilliant blues, mellow yellows, outrageous oranges, rampant reds, proud purples and burgeois burgundies. But under the canopy of trees at the end of the garden, it is the lightest coloured flowers that dominate, with their whiter shades of pale.