Garden moodboard: April

After nearly a year of photographing these monthly garden moodboards, I’ve come to realise that getting the main shot is a little like taking a group family photo.

Garden moodboard April | Wolves in London
Spring has sprung!

You line everyone up neatly, check they’re standing in a good position, look through the lens, go back to the group, move someone a little, ask someone else to take off their glasses and, click, take what you think is a great photo. And it’s only when going through the photos later on your computer that you realise someone always had their eyes shut, or someone’s hair is blowing in the wind, covering up the face of the person to their left. And you scroll through all the photos, to discover that though you have one in which every individual person is looking good, there isn’t one of them all looking good together…

(My family are notorious eye closers. From all the events of the past few years — four weddings for each of my siblings, new babies, first birthday parties and so on — there is not one single photo where we all have our eyes open…)

This month, it was the artemisia letting the side down. Look at that photo above, everything looks magnificent except for the bit of slightly wilty green foliage, snuggling a little too close to the blossom and just generally looking a bit drab. But, the artemisia is a glorious little plant really, here it is showing off its colours with a little more panache.

Artemisia | Wolves in LondonArtemisia 'Powis Castle' | Wolves in LondonIt’s got lovely silvery foliage, covered in fine hairs, and it smells absolutely wonderful rubbed between your fingers. This cultivar is ‘Powis Castle’ – it’s growing in my front garden, but looking a bit bedraggled, overall, after being buried under scaffold planks and who knows what else for the most of the winter. I think I might need to take some cuttings and hope to start again with a sturdier plant now.

But it’s full on spring outside now, so there are plenty of lovely flowering plants as well. I’ve got two different types of bluey / purpley bulbs that I can’t identify. A big prize for anyone who can give me names for these two (small print: no actual prize will be forthcoming):

Update: a huge thanks to Philippa from Mini eats and Natalie from Slate grey, lime and hay for identifying both of these bulbs for me as, respectively, Scilla forbesii and Ipheion ‘Rolf Fiedler’

blue bulb | Wolves in London
Lovely blueish bulb flower. Is it is a scilla, perhaps?
Purple flower | Wolves in London
I had one solitary flower of these, but I didn’t feel too bad cutting it out, since it was at the very back of my garden completely out of eyesight

Others are more familiar to me. The gorgeous grape hyacinths are nearly over, but I managed to find a few still poking their heads up, though the bottom flowers on the stalk are already shedding seeds as you can just see here:

Grape hyacinth | Wolves in London
The bottom flowers are spent already, the middle ones have seeds waiting to spill…

The yellow primulas are still going strong as well. I know I showed you these last month, but I’ve since dug out my macro lens, so I thought they deserved a better close up photo this time round:

Primula | Wolves in London
It’s the colour of spring, isn’t it?

Ditto the last of the magnolia flowers, from next door’s front garden. I was reading something in my RHS magazine this month (uh huh, I’ve just subscribed, I’m getting serious about this gardening lark!) from a garden designer who said that in a small garden, every single plant has to perform to the fullest and provide interest in every season of the year. So he wouldn’t put any plants into a design that only had a short season of interest — no matter how appealing they were in that time. But the magnolia! I immediately thought to myself. How could you miss out on such a wonderful couple of weeks, even if it does very little for the rest of the year?

Magnolia stellata | Wolves in London
Magnolia stellata. A few weeks of glorious display, only, but fully worth its place in the flowerbed, in my opinion…

I planted lots of Leucojum aestivum bulbs (common name, Summer snowflake, says the RHS) in the front garden when we first moved in, though only a few have come through again this year. In the back garden, though, I’ve suddenly got loads around the pond, which is really beautiful. They look a lot like snowdrops, but grow on much taller stems.

Leucojum aestivum | Wolves in London
Just like a snowdrop. But not.

Most pleasing of all, though, is the proliferation of blossom on my plum tree. I hold out hope for a good plum crop this year, unlike last.

Plum blossom | Wolves in London
So delicate and so hard to photograph!

And for a little variety in colour, I had to show you a little of my forced rhubarb with it’s heavenly pink stems…

rhubarb | Wolves in Londonrhubarb stalk | Wolves in London…and these (what I think are) miniature tulips, with their red-and-yellow flowers:

Tulip | Wolves in London tulip | Wolves in LondonBut back into the front garden again for my last two plants. My batch of white snap dragons from last year have self-seeded back into the same pots and, so mild has it been, some have even started to flower, a good three or four months early:

Snapdragon bud | Wolves in LondonFinally, a little look at another silvery foliage plant, this gorgeous ‘Silver Dust’:

Senecio cineraria 'Silver Dust'I grew it from seed a few years ago and am amazed at how it’s continued to thrive, despite usually being grown as an annual in this country…

Once I’d finished photographing all these little beauties, I bunged them into a tiny jar so I could continue to admire them. Sweet, no?

garden flower jar | Wolves in London
A thimble full of cuteness

Joining in, as every other month, with Karin and Asa.

Related articles:

  • If this is your thing, lots more moodboards to be seen here: Monthly garden moodboards
  • You can also see my pick of my fave photos from mine and others’ moodboards over on Pinterest

Amorous frogs…

…it must be Spring!

Frog | Wolves in London
Wot yew lookin at?

It seems to be frog mating season in our pond; every time I wander down to the end of the garden I can hear a low melodic ribbiting and look over to the pond to see at least four sets of frogs, clinging to each other in an endless embrace in the sunshine.

If I walk too close and disturb them, they rush back into the depths, one still clutching onto the other’s back.

Mating frogs
They stay like this for hours, clutching on to each other…

The frogspawn multiplies by the day. When I first noticed it, there was one little ball. The following day, two. Now, the surface of the pond is practically covered with it.

A winter of neglect while we were away has meant the fish have died one way or other (I suspect at the hands, or rather paws, of the neighbours’ cats, since there is no evidence of fish bodies anywhere), the plants that are still there look very sorry for themselves and the water has turned a murky brown from all the decomposing apples we didn’t fish out.

But the frogs seem to enjoy the lack of competition as I have never seen so many of them in there…

Affectionate frogs
There’s something sweetly affectionate about the way the one on the right is touching the other one

Elsewhere in the garden, other wonderful signs of spring are everywhere. Nothing better than the fabulously blue sky…

The sproglet gets terribly excited by the sight of a plane flying overhead.

… the blossom on the tree next door…

Blossom | Wolves in London
A treeful of gorgeous white flowers

… and the acer buds starting to burst out against a backdrop of London rooftops.

Acer in bud | Wolves in London
I think these will be fully unfurled by next week
London rooftops | Wolves in London
Sigh. If only every day was like this…

Days like these warm the soul, don’t they?

Related articles:

Garden moodboard: March

Isn’t Spring bloody great?

I’m practically elated to be back to my garden in time for this fabulous early March weather.

As I collected the flowers for these pictures, the sproglet was careening up and down the garden (as full as Spring fever as I am), the air was scented with blossom from next door’s tree and I could hear the chirruping of birds, the drone of bumble bees and the low ribbits of the frogs in the pond.

If that sounds too ridiculously bucolic for words, that’s pretty much how I felt as well.

March garden moodboard
Yellows, blues and whites just shout spring, don’t they?

We haven’t got a huge amount of flowers out there. Three months of building work has put paid to many of the beds closest to the house. But some bulbs have struck through regardless and there are buds on all the bushes and trees promising a feast of glorious things to come later.

Of course, I couldn’t find much to photograph these against, in among all the building detritus, so these are shown on a piece of beige plyboard. Classy, eh?

They may be slim pickings and they may be inadequately backdropped, but these lovely first signs of spring still make me smile…

Acer bud | Wolves in London
The promise of great things to come

Our acer tree has fabulous red stems and little furled buds that look as if they’ll be coming into leaf within a week or so.

Crocus | Wolves in London
Small but impressive

These purple and white crocuses have fought through against all the odds, a little cluster peeking out in the front garden, pushing their way through (quite literally) inches of dust, rubble and sawdust. I just love a garden survivor…

Daffodil | Wolves in London
It’s as good as feeling the sun on your face, looking at a cheery yellow daff

There are small little outbreakings of daffodils around the garden, though the couple of large pots with bulbs in are doing best. I think this might be something like a Narcissus ‘Tete a Tete’ as it’s quite short and riotously yellow (and obviously happy growing in pots with complete and utter neglect…)

Grape hyacinth | Wolves in London
Have I ever mentioned before (ahem) that I love blue flowers the most?

As I’m sure I’ve said a million times before, I just adore blue flowers. These lovely grape hyacinths are just poking their noses above the soil in a couple of places. I hope to be getting more as the month progresses…

Primula | Wolves in London
Another stalwart, unbothered by neglect, trampling or dust…

The good old Primula is another survivor. Not the most exciting plant in the world, in my opinion, but reliable and cheery.

Magnolia | Wolves in London
Oh the delicate papery magnolia!

And very much saving the best til last, my lovely magnolia flowers that grow over the front garden from the tree next door and which I claim as my own each year…

Spring. It’s really good to see you after what’s felt like a long and rather difficult Winter. Please stick around.

(And, just in case that all sounds a bit too good to be true, here’s the behind the scenes peek. We spent all of last weekend moving a huge pile of rubble into bags and then to the tip, so the “patio” outside the kitchen is now clear. But, ahem, as you can see, it needs a bit of love and attention still:)

Flowers on concrete
This looks bleak, I know, but trust me when I say this is major progress!

Joining in with Karin A.

Related articles:

  • I’m coming round to almost a whole year of garden moodboards now, take a look at them all if you’re so inclined: Garden moodboards.
  • My Pinterest board collects together some of my favourite moodboards each month, both from my blog and from others. Follow along there for lots of monthly garden loveliness…

Garden moodboard: February

It’s slightly ironic (in the non-Alanis Morissette sense of the word) that when I have horticulture exams to revise for, my garden becomes completely abandoned.

February garden moodboard
Sunshine, snowdrops and blossoms. I must remember to look back at this photo when the vile rain starts up again

Any spare time I have must be spent revising, not weeding, planting or pottering about with secateurs.

And so it is, that I am publishing my monthly garden moodboard 17 days late for February. I finally had time this weekend to wade out in my wellies and do a quick harvest of some snowdrops and a twig full of promising buds before the smell drove me back inside. I don’t want to revolt you by going into too much detail, but the front drive ain’t the only thing waterlogged around here, the drains on the patio out the back are full to capacity as well. Luverly.

So delicate and cheering

On a nicer note, however, look at these adorable snowdrops! Galanthus nivalis in Latin, doncha know, and one of the first bulbs to flower every year.

There is an absolute plethora of different snowdrop varieties and some aficionados go crazy for them, paying up to £50 for a rare bulb. Me, I’m just quite happy with whatever bog standard variety likes to grow in the garden (no drains-related pun intended).

As I moved the snowdrops around to photograph them, they dropped their bright yellow pollen, which I thought was rather glorious.

Snowdrop pollensnowdrop bunchsnowdrop pollen

The moodboard’s a little sparse this month. Apart from the snowdrops, the only other thing I could find worth photographing was this tree / bush that was putting out some promising buds. I’m not sure what it is, a forsythia perhaps? Let me know in the comments if you have a better idea.

Branch in  budyellow buds

But the really, really exciting part of these photos is not the plants themselves but that other rare thing: sunlight.

I usually try and make sure there aren’t shadows in my moodboard photos, but I was so very excited to see the glorious sunshine peering through the window for the first time in weeks that I couldn’t bear to exclude it.


Actually, I just thought of one more exciting thing about these photos. They are set to be the last of my garden moodboards coming to you from the garden of my Mum’s house, rather than mine. If you check in here regularly, you’ll know we’ve been camped out in the home counties while renovation has been taking place at our actual London house. But we’re scheduled to move back in just under a fortnight now, a promise so exciting I hardly dare believe it’s true… Next month, once we’re home again, there will be more variety with my plant choices, I promise.

Joining in with Asa.

Related articles:

  • Take a look at last month’s garden moodboard: January 2014.
  • And I’ve added photos of all my moodboards, along with some of my favourites by other people, over at Pinterest: Garden moodboards.


My lovely blog readers, it’s that time again… The second batch of my horticulture exams are in less than two weeks and, just like last June, I must bury my head in my books until then and concentrate on revision.

Right this very second, I’m probably busy learning about such things as how to grow cyclamen for commercial production…

So no blog posts from me, I’m afraid, until some point after February 11th when I can think about anything non-plant related again.

Of course, I deeply wish I was one of those super organised people who would have scheduled a few posts for the meantime but — as you know all too well if you’ve been here a few times — sadly, I’m not.

So, have a wonderful fortnight, wish me luck for the day of exams and I’ll be back soon…

Beautiful right now: plants for winter

As you may recall, every Wednesday I leave the sproglet in the capable hands of my mother and trot off, unfettered and unencumbered, to Regent’s Park, where I spend the day learning all about horticulture (or “gardening” in layman’s terms…)

Prunus x subhirtella
Cherry trees in Regent’s Park

I absolutely love this course, both for what I learn about and for the freedom of using my brain one day a week (most of the time my brain is a sludge of what-shall-I-cook-for-lunch?, why-won’t-he-go-to-sleep?, what-time-is-Raa-Raa-on? and other crucial questions like these…)

My very favourite part, though, is our “plant ident” – every other week we take a stroll round the park, identifying ten plants that we then have to learn over the course of the week and recognise in a test the following Wednesday, complete with the full Latin names. (Yes, the inner geek loves the test bit as well.)

Last week was my favourite ever ident, looking at trees and shrubs that provide winter interest in the garden.

Here are some of the plants I adored the most, all in bloom / scent  / fine bark right now. I’m just trying to narrow down my choices of which ones I absolutely must have in my own garden…

1. Winter-flowering cherry

Prunus x subhirtella blossom
Beautiful blossoms in winter
prunus x subhirtella
Though just a few are left on the bare stems now…
Prunus x subhirtella
The branches still looks stunning

A cherry tree that blossoms in Winter! When we first looked at this tree a fortnight ago, it was dripping in little pink blossoms, but when I went back with my camera this week, there were only a few left on the branches. The branch shapes themselves are completely beautiful as well, though, all twisted and gnarled against the sky.

The Latin name for this is Prunus x subhirtella ‘Autumnalis’ – a somewhat confusing name, in my opinion, since it’s main interest is in Winter, but there we go…

2. Tibetan cherry

prunus serrula
That bark! What more can I say?

Another cherry tree, though this time it’s the bark not the blossom that is in fine fettle in winter. Look at this lovely, crinkled, peeling red bark. I’m currently persuading my Mum to get one of these for her garden, I think they are absolutely stunning.

Prunus serrula in Latin, this cherry has small white blossoms in May, which are followed by round red cherry fruits (inedible to us). Its willow-like green leaves turn red and yellow in Autumn. Truly a tree for all seasons.

3. Winter honeysuckle

lonicera fragrantissima
If only you could smell this photo…
winter honeysuckle
The flowers are pretty, but the bare stems less so…

Okay, this plant isn’t really that much to look at. The small white flowers are fine, but they’re hung upon a shaggy stem of bare branches. But though it might not be a looker, this winter honeysuckle is irresistible for its gorgeous scent.

If I had one of these in my garden (and I think I really must get one), I’d plant it behind an evergreen with some attractive foliage to try and hide the unkempt stems, but still benefit from the smell. And it would go close to a door so I would smell it every time I went in and out.

Lonicera fragrantissima in Latin, if you’re looking to go and buy it…

4. Viburnum x bodnantense

viburnum x bodnantense
Not only lovely to look at, but they smell wonderful too

I’m not sure what the common name for this viburnum is, but it’s really another essential for a beautifully scented winter garden. The gorgeous little clusters of pink blossoms have a heady and utterly wonderful scent. Again, it flowers on bare stems, but it looks neater and tidier than the honeysuckle, so you wouldn’t feel the need to hide it behind something else.

5. Berberis darwinii

Berberis darwinii
Could a winter plant be any more cheerful than this?!

Sometimes, in the middle of winter, you just need some cheering colour to look at. This lovely little shrub, Berberis darwinii (again, I don’t know the common name, I’m afraid) is just the ticket. Bright orange dropping flowers and luscious green leaves couldn’t help but give you a little lift on a bleak January day.

It’s good as an informal hedge (for informal, read scruffy) or you could just have a specimen shrub to look at. I’d make sure to put this somewhere in sight of a window, so I could always get a little winter boost from its colourful petals whenever I looked outside…

6. Christmas box

Sarcococca confusa
The flowers may be small, but they smell wonderful

Okay, the Christmas box (or Sarcococca confusa) is hardly going to blow your retinas with its amazing looks, but it’s another seemingly insignificant plant that packs a punch when it comes to scent.

It’s an evergreen shrub, that grows slowly and doesn’t really stand out for its form or colour, but those little spiky white flowers, that are in place most of the winter, have an incredible strong scent. Again, one to plant by a door, or even grow as a small hedge by the front of the house. The flowers are followed by little black glossy berries. Even better, this is one of the few plants that really thrives in shade, so if you’ve got a very shaded place where nothing else likes to grow, this could be perfect…

(I should say that my photo isn’t really doing it any favours here either. There was a big band of park maintenance men in a lorry just by the Sarcococca when I was trying to photograph it, so it was a case of “snap, snap, wander off quickly before they think I am a crazed tourist…”)

7. Dogwood

Amazing fiery stems
Cornus sanguinea 'Midwinter Fire'
Up close you can really see the bright red tops and orange bases

This dogwood is called Cornus sanguinea ‘Midwinter Fire’ and it’s easy to see why. Again, my photo isn’t quite doing justice to these amazing red and orange stems, which look absolutely breath taking in the flesh (or should I say, “in the bark”…)

This isn’t a plant to go for if you want low maintenance, however, as you need to prune it at least every two years, if not every year, to keep the amazing colours, since they show on the youngest wood only. It also looks better planted en masse, I’m not sure that a single shrub on its own would have such a good impact. So you would need a fairly large garden. Nonetheless, I’m still tempted to get one of these for our garden because, well, just look…

Tell me, have you got any of these in your garden?

Related articles:

Frosty mornings

Urgh, all this rain! I can’t bear the sogginess of it all.

It’s cheered me up no end that a few mornings this week I’ve woken not to the interminable patter of rain on the roof, but to the sight of frost on the ground and the big orange sun peeping out through the trees opposite the house.

I wandered round the garden with my lovely macro lens (a wedding present last year) for a little close up look at some of the frosted bits and pieces last weekend.

Frosted garden table
The garden table, with the frost all lined up in rows
frosty feather
And a little feather trapped on the table
frosty leaf
Even the weeds look lovely with a little sprinkling
Frosty stem
And I love the way the little icicles point straight upwards
frosty tree stump
On an old tree stump at the bottom of the garden, the top was a layer of ice
Snail shells
The eagle eyed among you will have spotted these shells aren’t remotely frosty. I just thought they were rather lovely

So beautiful.

Come on January, more crisp cold days and less rain please…

Related articles:

  • I took my macro lens for a wander round my garden last year too (the pics from here are in my Mum’s garden as we’re temporarily staying with her). It was Autumn time and there was plenty of seasonal loveliness then too: Autumn in the garden
  • For even more garden photos, take a look at my recent garden moodboard (links within the post to more moodboards from other months as well): January moodboard

Garden moodboard: January

Hot on the heels of my lateness with new year’s resolutions (or lack thereof) I am also running a good few weeks late with my garden moodboard for January.

Garden weed moodboard
A feast for Peter Rabbit

What can I say, it’s been pissing it down outside and there is not a single new plant to show you from my Mum’s garden since I took the photos last month

So, for my January moodboard, ladies and gentlemen, for one month only, I bring you the unloved, the unphotographed (many would say for good reason), the ever present but never desired… …I bring you the garden weed!

[Disclaimer: despite completing nearly a year of my horticulture classes now, I’m not actually that good at identifying weeds, so it is highly possible that a couple of these, come Spring time, might prove themselves to be wonderful garden plants rather than vicious interlopers.]

Garden weeds
Everything looks nicer in the sunshine…
garden weeds
How many do you recognise?

As I was taking the photos, the sun came out from behind one of the many clouds, and the weeds looked rather glorious, I thought, lush and green with the sun streaming through the window.

I can only identify a couple of these. The nettles, up close, have a beautiful toothed edge to their leaves. Perhaps this will be the year I finally get round to making some nettle fertiliser rather than just stinging myself on them.

They’d be beautiful if they weren’t so vicious

There’s not really a huge amount to be said for the dandelions. They’re not terribly attractive in this state and though the amazing seed heads are undeniably beautiful you just don’t want to let them reach that stage and spread hundreds more of the plants into the garden… I suppose I could try eating the leaves in a salad, though, if times got really tough.

dandelion leaf
Tasty? Hmmm
Curly, yes.

This one I’m not quite sure if it’s a weed or perhaps a geranium. Either way, something’s been enjoying a munch…

chewed leaf
Weed or trusty garden flower?

And this final one is really quite beautiful up close.

Garden weed
I Haven’t a clue what this is…

Perhaps not quite as attractive or varied as the flowers I’ve shown you before, but viewing them through my macro lens, this little weeds have rather grown on me (pun unintented)…

Next month, though, as long as we’re back in our own house, I promise you some proper garden plants. As long as they haven’t been totally destroyed by building dust, that is.

Joining in this month, as ever, with Karin A.

Related articles:

Garden moodboard: December

Since I haven’t seen our house for a fortnight now, I can only imagine what the garden is looking like in December. (Covered in builder’s tools, bricks and building dust I would guess…)

December garden moodboard by Wolves in London
Mmmm, winter’s here

Here at my Mum’s, I’ve a few evergreen plants to show you that really sum up the festive month of December. Actually, not many are ones I would choose to have in my own garden (especially the dratted ivy — I spent every weekend for a month a few summers back removing the ivy from my old flat) but there is no doubt that they scream Christmas is nearly here!

Can you hear them announcing the imminence of Christmas? No? Bend closer to your screen

I think these green and yellow leaves are from a shrub called Euonymus Fortunei ‘Emerald ‘n’ Gold,’ which we learnt about as a useful hedging plant in my gardening class a few weeks ago. My Mum’s is mostly green or yellow, which I cheerfully informed her means it’s reverting to its original colours and therefore needs a good prune. Still, the few variegated leaves that are there look rather nice:

Euonymus fortunei 'Emerald 'n' Gold'
Euonymus fortunei ‘Emerald ‘n’ Gold’ (don’t even get me started on the “n”…)

And while I wouldn’t have ivy in my garden again, I do think the variegated leaf varieties look really pretty and festive:

variegated ivy
This is a particularly nice leaf

Of course, a Christmas garden scene wouldn’t be complete without some berries. These orange ones, I am reliably informed, are pyracantha…

Gorgeous bright colours against all the green

Somehow, the rose bush is still putting out a few flowers. I’m sure there is no rose that would intentionally flower in December, so it must just be due to our rather warm Autumn this year that a few are still hanging on. Jolly nice they are too. I do so love a white rose.

One of the last roses in the garden

Related articles:

  • I’ve put all my garden moodboards of the year onto a new board on Pinterest, so head over there if you’d like to see some more: Garden moodboards

Garden moodboard: November

It’s been something of a frantic November, so far, with the excitement / stress of packing all the boxes in time for the builders to arrive. But yesterday I managed to grab a few minutes to go out into the garden for my November moodboard photos.

November garden moodboard
Just a few things to show you, this month

It was a gloriously sunny Autumn day, here in London, so I took my white card outside and photographed these leaves and berries in the dappled sunlight. Such autumnal colours!

The acer has changed leaf colour even since I photographed it last week, its stems and the tips of its leaves a really bright red now. I adore this lovely plant.

Acer leaves
There’s something terribly sweet about the way they’re holding hands (stems)

The rosehips are from the front garden, from next door’s rose that I constantly claim as my own. I’m not sure how good they’d be cooked, since they’re not a dog rose or a rosa rugosa, which I have read taste the nicest, but I’m tempted to make some up into some cordial just to try it out…

Whether or not they taste good, they look blooming pretty

The beautiful pink-tinged leaves are from one of my much-maligned azaleas. We removed 10 and still have about four dotted around the place. I’ve got no idea whether the ones that are left in the beds are the nicer ones, or not, so it’ll be interesting to what flower colours we have next Summer. The leaves, unquestionably, are stunning at this time of year.

Azalea leaf
Dear azalea, I apologise for my previous rudeness about your gaudy flowers, because you make a gorgeous Autumnal leaf for sure…
Azalea leaves
The whole spectrum of autumnal colours

Then, I was scratching around searching and searching for something else attractive to photograph, when I wandered into the greenhouse and discovered, rather to my surprise, that there were still tomatoes on my tomato plants. These are seriously over-ripe and past eating, but goodness they have gone a fabulous red colour…

The last of this year’s tomatoes

Finally, a couple of “behind the scenes” photos for you. This was my little set up, with the kitchen chair dragged out onto the lawn, to get my photos this month. I thought the whole thing looked rather bucolic:

Garden moodboard November
Gasp! The Wizard of Oz is revealed…

And this next one isn’t “behind the scenes” so much as “opposite the scenes” — a view of the trees in the street opposite where I live. They change colours for the Autumn in the most wonderful way, starting at the top and then spreading down towards the trunk. If I draw the curtains in the morning, I can see them from my bed, which is always a cheering start to the day if the sun is out.

Autumn trees
Traffic light trees

Related articles:

  • Oooh, if you’re keen on a garden moodboard, I’ve a whole host of others for you to admire. Check out May, June, July, August or October. (Really wishing I hadn’t missed September now, that list looks stoopid.)