A tale of birds and bees.

The ruins of St John the Baptist Church near Boughton.

Let the linnet's song, the trill of the wren, be the air that you breathe and the fire that inspires. Lean back, sink in; become bark,...

Shrinking the force-field...

...and love him forever?

It's more like a rabbit.

Not a photo of worms, but of what the worms have done: turning garden sweepings into soil.

More from my meanderings.

I returned to a park I'd visited earlier this year.

Yup, I was surveying woodland. Off track. And this little patch was a patch of heaven. Bluebells and ramsons and primroses. With a comfy...

Mr. Driveway waiting for dinner.

As the cherry blossoms fall, the honeysuckle starts to bloom.

Jaw of a pike. Mischa thinks the crows left it there.

There are gnats above this puddle. Honest.

Once upon a time.....

Where no wild things were visible.

...making the ordinary marvellous or the marvellous ordinary?

A picture of what I want to do.

Leanne and Clare have had their trail cams out!

Layla - a lovely sheep. We are not as smart as her.