When I was younger I remember going to the house of an elderly family friend. They lived on a smallish block of land and they had an overgrown rambling garden that was a little scary but fun to explore. It used to have this vague quality like a sense of age and establishment. It’s a very elusive quality and difficult to explain. Anyway, the other day I was out exploring and I suddenly realised that after the 18 years or so of gardening and growth and change on my parents’ property it had reached that point of established-ness. It’s so hard to explain. Maybe you can see it best in those little forgotten corners that are left to grow on their own and develop their own personalities. It gives a lovely sense of permanence with a tiny tinge of decay that reminds me that nature can soften everything. Maybe it’s the same as sea glass.

So to show you what I mean, I have a photograph of one of those forgotten corners. This one is in my aunt’s old greenhouse. It’s not really a greenhouse anymore and has sort of taken up the role of emtpy plastic pot storage place. But every now and then you see a surprising little orchid flower peeping out of the greenery.


ps. Uh oh, flickr has changed a bit and my normally smooth process of putting photos on here has suddenly gotten bumpy…I will have to use html now. Not my favourite.