An early morning stroll through the woods.
before the heatwave crashes in on us.
the shimmer and glimmer of light.
bouncing through the trees

It is hot in the garden already
but the cooling sound of water trickling offers some respite.
Light reflects off the surface of the water
Sending flickering flames up the bark.

A breeze ripples through the myrtle leaves.
Alongside shaggy Spruce fronds droop
And Tiny blue bells drip from the Australian creeper
among the sensitive leaves of the Mimosa
The blue tit nest box nestled within,
fledglings grown and gone.
And now, Even the seed feeders need to come closer to the house
in order to be seen.

Opposite, the terracotta roof tiles are framed by a lead ridge
against the intense blue sky.
Old cartwheels rest wearily against the outhouse wall,
bricks rescued from the tower.

There is a feelings of sanctuary, stability & spaciousness.
There is height and light,
A sense of quality, a job well done.
built to last, looked after, maintained.
trimmed, pruned, sculpted, manicured, coiffured.
all just so, everything in its place, exact.

except perhaps the tree fern,
a battle lost to the squirrels.

It is beautiful. And something to be proud of.
All that racing and chasing And tearing about
did count for something.

The collared dove struts confidently around his domain.
A smaller pigeon briefly alights,
looking around furtively, uncertainly.
Taking just enough time to drink
In the cool respite of the shade beside the pond.

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