Super Full Moon

There seems little chance we will catch a glimpse of the super full moon tonight. By all accounts it is 30% brighter and 14% bigger than normal, so its a real shame as rain drizzles down and the pond gets full. Our garden birds hunker down in the wet: a pair of collared doves sit atop the pergola looking miserable as Sooty, the robins and the motley collection of sparrows flit around from bush to bush, looking for food.


Entertaining for 12 today will keep us fully occupied though; a chance to see my aunts, uncles and nieces.   And say goodbye to our collection of orchids for they will go back with my sister to her London home.


Ten of these graceful plants inhabit the conservatory. They are all magenta and have lent a peaceful, calm atmosphere to the place for the last four years.


35 days to go!...


Nicholas












It is raining...again...the grey seems unending these past weeks since returning from sunny Scotland!


And yet, I am seeing things much differently than I used to. I think this is because of Nicholas, his way of seeing has informed my own. On a greyer day, it is much much easier to see brilliant colours, it really is. Sometimes bright sunshine washes things out and diminishes my ability to truly appreciate what is before me...

Here in our garden, on this overcast Sunday morning, the red bud of the emergent smoke bush compliments the robin's breast and cheeks and I am deeply aware of the beauty of the blue hues in his belly feathers. I am thankful.


Soon our home will be filled with the laughter of our nieces, the stories and conversations of family members who are joining us from Dorset, London, Sussex and Surrey and this moment of quiet appreciation will recede into my memory, at least for the rest of today.


But, just for now, before that all begins, I pause and reflect on the profound privilege of time and the gift of presence. 


Judy