[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 19 October 2024].
A Lathyrus odoratus plant in one of my client's gardens.
to a beloved | qui riposa
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 18 June 2024].
dog rose
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 15 June 2024].
I captured this rosa canina, commonly known as dog rose, and bearing the fruit, rose hip (though not fruiting when I photographed it) on my walk past Grove Park Nature Reserve to Hither Green Cemetery earlier in the month.
There are various theories for the origins of the plant's name. As you might imagine, my favoured one (though likely not scientifically proven) is that the plant can cure the bite of a mad or rabid dog.
As with many flowers and plants, it's the county flower in one country (Hampshire, England) and an invasive weed in others (NZ and Australia).
But it is pretty.
haunted by ghosts it is easy to become a ghost
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 4 May 2024].
purity and innocence
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 13 May 2024].
let me hold your heart like a flower
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 17 April 2024].
camellia japonica
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 20 April 2024].
blossoms against bricks
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 13 April 2024].
death in technicolour
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 8 April 2024].
A couple of flowering Camellia japonica trees brighten up the churchyard of St Peter's Church in Delamere.
Life and death side by side.
prunus cerasifera
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 1 March 2024].
Some Prunus cerasifera flowers I captured last Saturday during a solo photo walk in Hitchin.
Spring is coming.
owt wet
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 27 February 2024].
cafe inside
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 9 February 2024].
untitled #186
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 14 January 2024].
off-duty umbrellas
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 12 December 2023].
santa's potting shed
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 5 December 2023].
i only want to be with you
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 13 November 2023].
also perpetuating
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 7 November 2023].
sundae fraise
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 6 October 2023].
Some Hydrangea paniculata I came across while wandering through Bounds Green in August.
I believe these particular ones are Sundae Fraise.
untitled #9 [bromley, london, united kingdom, 2023]
thinking of home
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 15 July 2023].
I took these photos of Sabine's azaleas during my last cat-sitting for her before I went to Australia.
The blooms were beautiful and eye-catching.
According to Wikipedia: Azaleas and rhododendrons were once so infamous for their toxicity that to receive a bouquet of their flowers in a black vase was a well-known death threat.
But they were apparently immortalised by Tang dynasty Chinese poet Du Fu in the last two stanzas of his poem, Alone, looking for blossoms along the river:
The sorrow of riverside blossoms inexplicable,
And nowhere to complain — I've gone half crazy.
I look up our southern neighbor. But my friend in wine
Gone ten days drinking. I find only an empty bed.
A thick frenzy of blossoms shrouding the riverside,
I stroll, listing dangerously, in full fear of spring.
Poems, wine — even this profusely driven, I endure.
Arrangements for this old, white-haired man can wait.
A deep river, two or three houses in bamboo quiet,
And such goings on: red blossoms glaring with white!
Among spring's vociferous glories, I too have my place:
With a lovely wine, bidding life's affairs bon voyage.
Looking east to Shao, its smoke filled with blossoms,
I admire that stately Po-hua wineshop even more.
To empty golden wine cups, calling such beautiful
Dancing girls to embroidered mats — who could bear it?
East of the river, before Abbot Huang's grave,
Spring is a frail splendor among gentle breezes.
In this crush of peach blossoms opening ownerless,
Shall I treasure light reds, or treasure them dark?
At Madame Huang's house, blossoms fill the paths:
Thousands, tens of thousands haul the branches down.
And butterflies linger playfully — an unbroken
Dance floating to songs orioles sing at their ease.
I don't so love blossoms I want to die. I'm afraid,
Once they are gone, of old age still more impetuous.
And they scatter gladly, by the branchful. Let's talk
Things over, little buds — open delicately, sparingly.
In Chinese culture, it's apparently known as the "thinking of home bush", thus my title for this post.
Sabine's home has become something of a second home for me over the past year and a half, and spending time with her kittehs most months last year and many months this year so far has impacted my mental health positively.
Not to mention the enjoyment I get from the evenings spent in conversation with her the nights before she goes away. And the delicious and varied salads she usually makes us.
la vie en rose
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 16 December 2022].