For one reason or another I seldom post photos of beds or borders. Generally the pictures I take are rather disappointing . What I thought was a mass of colour and texture turns out to be rather dull. There is little movement, no depth, no heart. So I stick to individual flowers, or new boots and the like. This evening as I sat and watched the 2m teasel outside my front window tango in the wind, depositing the reservoirs held in its leaf axils to the ground beneath, only to be refilled before the next gust, my mind drifted back to earlier this week.
Here is Max’s garden. In the sunshine. Full of flowers. And joy. Surely that is what it is all about.