In my backyard I have an old concrete water tank that supplies my drinking water. Its other purpose is home to my climbing roses. When we run out of rain water a very brave water delivery man must meet the challenge of climbing the tank and finding the inlet opening. I often have a difficult choice; water or roses. I generally, and very reluctantly, take pity and prune out a gap.
Today it was windy. Actually that is an understatement; it was blowing a gale. I managed to take some pictures of the roses, but they were being blown around by the wind.
Both the red and white roses are old fashioned singles. Their beauty is pure and simple. Their perfume is heavenly.
Sadly the white rose puts on a magnificent show but it is only fleeting. It only blooms for a very short period of time. The red rose keeps producing flowers for much longer.
Ir rained. It happens but rarely. When I checked my glasshouse in the morning I noticed that each of my new garlic seedlings had a single droplet of condensation on their tip. I thought it was worth a picture.
While I was there I took a picture of my latest achievement. These are my canna seedlings that I struggled with previously. Click here. I have some more in individualised trays. These are the ones I didn’t think would grow. I just buried them all just in case. I think one of my tomato seeds must have dropped in too.
A sign of neglect or a thing of beauty? I call them Irish lace, although I believe the more common term is Irish curtain. I like Irish Lace. It’s also a sign of good luck. Look the leprechauns have left me some presents.
These cobwebs appeared on a garden decoration while I wasn’t looking. I like the way they have followed the circular pattern, almost looking like a part of the design.
This is another view. The garden sculpture contraption is made out of farm bits and pieces and moves with the wind.
Another web (below) was interesting in that it was a bit of a failure for the spider. It looks to have collected only one small insect in the top right hand corner. The rest of it is small bits of whatever was blowing in the wind.
I wonder why we say black and white photography, not white and black photography? In Spain it’s white and black, yet it means the same thing. Either way, it is something that fascinates me and an area of photography that I am yet to explore.
This is a ranunculi. It’s white! The dots were specks of grass clippings thrown up by the lawn mower.
I wondered what it might look like in ‘Black and White’. Quite a contrast, but I like the dreamy whiter one better. Probably the only time I wished the lawn hadn’t got mown!