Last weekend our village held an open gardens day. Anyone can come, buy a ticket and walk round all the gardens opened up for the occasion and quite a lot of people did. As well as loads of bloody weeding, it involves making scarecrows. Ours (a study on on the effect the said weeding has on me) wasn’t very good at scaring anything.
Seriously, the whole thing is quite fun. We used the event as an opportunity for an artist friend, Howard Firth, to exhibit his cupcake sculptures:
And his model city:
Yesterday I went for a walk up the hill in front of our house. Close to the skyline there’s a tree. It’s one of my favourite trees. I go up to it now and again just for the pleasure of sitting there. A few feet up, where the trunk forks, the diverging branches have grown into a really comfortable seat. I sat there today reflecting on the fact that it’s so comfortable one might easily fall asleep there. I had a crazy thought: perhaps it’s an enchanted tree. I’ll fall asleep and wake up in 200 years time – to find that the tree has grown and that my seat is dangerously high in the air…
In reality, the possibility of being woken up by rain in the dark at 1am to find myself stuck half way up a tree didn’t bear thinking about, so I resisted the urge to doze. Instead, I took out my camera. In winter, this natural armchair affords great views of the surrounding hills and, between them, the Vale of York. In summer, it affords views of, well, leaves mainly:
On my way up the hill to the tree I stopped to take a photograph of this old shed: