Candy Pink Camelias in Bloom

This week has seen the flowering of two huge camelia bushes in the garden. Their blooms are so blousy and 'in your face' but the candy pink petals look impressive against the dark green shiny leaves. I am unsure of the varieties as they were already in the garden when we moved in in November 2002.

Another pretty discovery is a  blue Barnhaven Primula that seems to have multiplied since being planted in a green bucket:

Mrs Duck and Mr Drake are always around.  They normally camp out near the back door, where the kitchen is.  They are fed by us and soon she will have her ducklings and they will be paraded and marched in front of us.

Birth of my Blog

I know this has taken me sometime but I have finally done it. My blog is born.
Over time I hope to share thoughts, inspirations on many things, some of which you may find of interest.
It is a little window into my world.
We are officially several days into spring here in the south of New Zealand.  A great passion and love is the cottage garden here.  Crocuses are in flower, cherry blossom abounds and blousy pink camelias are very showy in the front garden. I made a 'bird cake' the otherday (melted dripping and added wild bird seed, some dried fruit and nuts) and hung it up in a tree. It seems to be very popular with the waxeyes who are quickly demolishing it. Bellbirds, Tuis and Waxeyes drink nectar water (sugar and water mix, one part sugar to 4 parts water) at an alarming rate. 3 kgs of sugar seems to last for only 10 days!

A few evenings ago I could hear the wind whipping around the house and streets. I found if quite unsettling, it made me remember back to theThe Great Storm of 1987 which occurred on the night of 15/16 October 1987, when an unusually strong weather system caused winds to hit much of southern England and northern France. It was the worst storm to hit England since the Great Storm of 1703 (284 years earlier) and was responsible for the deaths of at least 22 people in England and France.

I was visiting one of my brothers in England at the time, several months earlier I had been at the epi centre of an earthquake in Edgecumbe, New Zealand. I was starting to think natural disasters were following me around.
Anyway, this short poem emerged this evening when I was listening to the gusts outside.

Wild Night
I remember when the night was wild
And the wind blew the black sky inside out
Like a magician’s hat.
The moon ghost scurried above
Negotiating troubled clouds.
Trees raised their arthritic limbs upwards.
Knotted fingers creaked on weathered arms
Signaling their annoyance.
Great gusts of air took breath away
Oblivious, with Goliath strength.
I remember when the night was wild.

~ Anni Morris 2 September 2010