Giants

An avenue of redwoods so tall I'd have had to lie in the mud to fit them all in. I didn't.

A glorious, sunny day that enticed me out to Benmore Gardens. A little too early in the season for the gardens proper, everything in bud, not much in bloom, a riot of birdsong.

Another pilgrimage of sorts. My sister lived in the gardens when she was first married, slipping out at dusk to snip exotic specimens for her flower arrangements. She has a real talent. I made the ritual visit to her old place above the stables, beside the clock-tower and found it derelict, green algae creeping across the windows. It seems a shame and a waste, it was such a lovely home.