Leaning chimneys & Foxgloves

Writing about working in a garden should really be done in the garden.  It's so much easier to describe the scent of damp earth and the heady fragrance of the late Wisteria blooms and Lavender at the same time one's senses are being evoked.  This is such a peaceful and tranquil garden in which to work. The only sounds here are provided by the the buzzing of bees and the occasional hum of a distant tractor and birdsong if it's early morning or evening.  Occasionally one can hear a distant church bell drifting over.  The gentle clucking of young blackbirds as they scavenge the very last berries on the Daphne and a gentle breeze in the trees above.  As dusk falls, Mr. & Mrs. Hooty begin to call to each other and bats swoop low scooping up moths.  The moon rises low in the sky and the stars start to appear.

The old leaning chimney & foxgloves - hopefully seeding everywhere.

 I don't even find the sound of a lawnmower offensive and I love the smell of green wood smoke drifting up from the bonfire.  They're all sounds and smells of the various seasons.  At this time of year, it's so hard to remember accurately the silence that a snowfall brings or the smell of damp leaves on an Autumn morning. 

But then perhaps we're being a tad sentimental on a very showery July day!  I'll break this spell of rural perfection and describe the swatting of Dun flies - attempting to get them before they actually bite.  How exactly DO they land without us feeling them?  By the time I feel one and squash it, I squash my blood out of its body and then there's the infernal itching that goes on and on...! And where's a Dock leaf when you really need one?  Back to reality!