Tick tock Dandelion clock.
Seeds of Thyme and memories like a good wine.
Tompion’s cottage garden is where clock enthusiasts flock:
Little Tom Thumb swings from pendulums of spider’s thread,
Landing in a beautifully scented pink flowery bed.
I have been fascinated by this lovely old cottage for some time,so this morning as I drove past it, the golden early morning sunshine lit up the ravishing cottage garden so beautifully that I had to stop and take this photo. Tompion’s cottage at Ickwell Green, in Bedfordshire, England is very important part of Bedfordshire’s heritage and in fact England’s too. Thomas Tompion was the father of English Clockmakers and watchmakers (born c 1639and died 1713). He was buried in Westminster Abbey,London. The cottage was his home and is now maintained by the Worshipful Company of Clockmakers. His prestigious clocks are still fully operational today.
I hope you enjoy with me in his garden!
Between weary evergreens
And lean stretching trees.
A golden brook of
Daffodils lyrically babbles
And violets hide in every nook,
Adorning the woodland floor.
Spring’s door has gently opened,
Surprising us and giving
Yesterday, even though the sunshine didn’t manage to peep through the clouds, spring’s door had opened with its perfumed breath. Joyously, we walked through an old Victorian park in Bedford, chatting and taking in the splashes of emerging colourful buds and flowers. It was a beautiful day. Thank you nature and thank you friends for putting up with me diving about taking photos. 🙂
I heard very sad news yesterday about the passing of my friend and colleague, Moira Christie. She was aged 77 and had been unwell for sometime. She was a kind, practical and positive person who loved her garden and nature. This photograph reminds me of her.
The last few days have been very strange because my thoughts were of her and all my friends in Edinburgh. Before I go to bed I often look at my Laboradite crystal and on Monday and Tuesday I saw a picture in the crystal of a view of Edinburgh and the Pentland hills, which I have seen so many times from further round the coast in East Lothian. Early evening, my husband heard an owl hooting, then I received the message about Moira’s passing. My thoughts are with her loving family.
Their bark is
A precious parchment,
Secreted in bonnets;
Saved in lockets.
The great Silver Birch
Saving a waning