iggandfriends

Life, crafty stuff, long walks, thoughts, and little oddities.


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Cows and brambles

Up the lane, between the fields. The cows gaze at us inquisitively over the gate, long lashes skimming brown eyes. The hedgerows are laden with berries, glowing amongst the thorns. The late summer sun warms our backs as we pick, stretching to collect best of the crop. Until, bags full and hands stained purple, we head homewards. Dreaming of bramble jelly and drop scones.

 

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Been a slow couple of weeks as I continue to recover. Health gradually improving but not back to normal just yet. Getting there, though 🙂


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Sunflower and sunshine

In the morning light

The petals slowly unfurl

Centre revealed

Turning to drink in

The rays of the sun

 

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First sunflower of the year  opens in the garden to cheer me up. Sorry for the delay in posting – been ill for a couple of weeks and am slowly getting back to normal.


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Diamonds and lupins

lupin diamond

After a week of wet, the garden has returned to luscious green. Grass springing up beneath my feet. Peas and beans twining their ways up the poles in the vegetable patch. Cabbages bursting their bounds. Beetroot ripe for the picking. At the top of the garden, my Dad’s wildflower patch raises banners of rainbow hue, blowing in the breeze. The sweet peas bless the air with their fragrance. As I pass by the border, there, in the heart of a lupin, a diamond glows.


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Butterflies and brambles

Under a brooding sky the butterflies play, busy about their business.  A flash of red and orange as a small tortoiseshell flutters past, coming to rest on a bramble. I take a slow step, then a second. A twitch and up they fly – not one or two, but clouds of butterflies, spiraling round overhead. Bright in contrast against the rainclouds gathered. Blissfully ignorant of the approaching storm they return to sip, getting heady on nectar and sun.

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NB – back up north this week, attending an interview for a post up here. If prayer is your thing, then please pray for all those being interviewed and all those doing the interviewing, that God’s hand will direct us all to the right decision for this group of parishes. Thank you.


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Fairy rings and drunken bees

The playing-field was mown last week. Dry grass still lies piled in rows. Yet the daisies are back again, white stars shining. By the swings and between the goalposts the earth shows through, a threadbare patch of green. Trodden down by excited feet.  If you look closely, a fairy ring lies under the trees, where the little folk come and dance by moonlight. Through the gap and over the dry ditch on to the path homewards. The hedges are laden with may-blossom this year, white froth edging the track. Purple grasses wave gently in the breeze, a faint rustle at the edge of hearing. The flowers seem to smile in greeting as I pass by, buttercups gently glowing in the light. A bee bumbles past, weaving from flower to flower. Sipping the honey, drunk on summer.

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Bluebells and butterflies

Tired of sewing, it’s time for a walk. The rain has stopped and the sun is playing peek-a-bo behind the clouds. Boots on. Rainproof on. The post office first, getting the jobs out the way. Car tax paid. Ouch. Letter posted. Hopefully that will bring a smile when it arrives. Then I head up the hill, towards the playing field. The sunshine has carpeted the edges of the field with wildflowers, blossoming in the heat. Through the snicket gate and along the back lane I wander.  Long grass soaking the bottom of my jeans. The scent of the freshly washed green surrounds me, a moist warmth. The cow parsley is in full flower, nodding its head as I pass by. In the lea of the hedge, a few bluebells linger on. There, as I watch, a butterfly drinks deeply of the scent of spring.

bluebell butterfly


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Buttercups and birdsong

The mist over the lake rises with the sun this morning. Herald of a hot day. The flowers trumpet the warmth of spring. Buttercups open to the light, glowing golden. A butterfly briefly rests on the grass, wings outspread. The reed beds are full of birdsong, a celebration of life. Mountains rise to cloudless blue sky, and a meadow pipit spirals up to join them.

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