This is the little apple tree that rose like Lazarus, after being buried by the digger for a couple of months...the pies from next years apples will be so sweet. It could be argued that the plants surrounding it are weeds but I like to see them as adoring flowers of the wilderness..In the light of democracy and reformation a few thugs..hog weed and dock..have been allowed to set up residence. A close eye is being kept on them to ensure they behave. Any sign of out right thuggery and asbos will be issued with a spade.
Chooks quite like the additions..especially when I lob a few milky thistles over the wire.
I must look this tiny fungi up..it is pale and slender and has found a way to grow on the driest of soil.
Poppies marking what was a war zone after the retreat of the digger.
Such a variety of little gems..the cover is still patchy and thin but I have great hopes for next yea
The old Queen Couscous and her devoted subject, the naughty, bouncy Scrabble who so wants to lick her..but is not allowed to touch. Gummy jaws can still nip..
Cous sharing state secrets with her envoy. He seems a bit worried but she stayed calm.
Hmmmm..
