If you have been reading either of my blogs for any length of time you have seen quite a few glimpses of where I live...but even if I shared all the images sequentially, with much explanation, it wouldn't do justice to this dynamic environs.
Yes, that tiny sign says ~Beware of the Dog~
and it is true...and the gate does not open unless you know the magic numbers...
As I live and work in a place that is not mine, I try to be, nay I have been, very sensitive as to what I photograph and share. And yet the family that does own the place is really all about sharing; so because my readers are so kind, I will invite you in a bit. After all, I only have a few readers and a very nice group you are. The attempts that are often made to publish advertisements in my comments section probably come from "bots," as automatic phishing mail senders are sometimes called, and bots don't stick around to enjoy the posts. So I will assume that I can at least walk my gentle readers through the garden gate.
I say the garden gate because the front gate leads directly into a garden. There are no vehicles behind the walls of the property, unless you count the one just inside the garage that
Miss Phoebe was sitting on in my last post. Otherwise, one must walk in and carry whatever you might need in with you. But you won't need a thing; just remember that you can usually click on my photos if you want to view them larger and then use your back button to return to the post.
It isn't just about where I live about which I am careful, but that is a story for another day, let's just go enjoy the garden for a moment.
Good, you are in, please shut the gate behind you.
Inside the garden wall..
I imagine that the little wooden window is where the milkman use to leave fresh milk in glass bottles on the stone shelf. Perhaps packages were once popped through the door too. Or maybe a neighbor could have left a present or returned a borrowed pot. This little door is fixed now and remains closed, otherwise it would constantly be framing the face of some curious person or other...
The old Australian Tea Trees, Leptospermum laevigatum, are wonderful...they each have a mind of their own and that and the bidding of the sun and wind and water is what they each follow winding their way through the garden and along the paths.
The garage has a window onto the front path and Mark has narrow work bench in front of the window...it is where he built his guitar.
Here he is making an abalone rosette.
It's been another busy day...and I've not shared as many photos as I intended..but I'll hope to post more soon. A young passion flower vine I planted in a favorite yellow pot my father gave me years ago has made it's first two blossoms...
I think they close up at night...I know I must... say goodnight.