I love just staring at the garden.  I often wonder if it is the words that my mother said so often when I was young that ring in my ears and give me such peace looking at my garden.

Part of my morning routine is to spend just two minutes looking out at the garden.  You get a very different perspective from upstairs.  It is very easy to see which shrubs are out-growing their allotted space, that the rowen tree is acting as a climbing frame for the clematis armandii (needs sorting after the clematis has flowered), which branches need pruning from the willow.  I line up the jobs in my mind and marvel at nature at the same time.  

Even looking at the garden each morning, you notice the changes so easily.  As the seasons pass by, life ebbs and flows.  Snow covers the ground and then melts, little green shoots become green mounds, they get taller, flower, return to green mounds and then, in autumn, the brown takes over and then they disappear (my work) and the circle begins again.

Then, all too soon, those few minutes are up and real life once again demands my attention again.  The special time with my garden is over, but there is always tomorrow ……………..