Amidst the shock and outrage at the fact that it has snowed, in January, in Northern Europe, it’s all too easy to miss its beauty. The way it makes everywhere look different. And makes us see everyday objects differently. Especially in the gardens and parks in the few miles round where we live.
Snow held gently in ivy.
In a black and white world, the flame tree stands out. Greenbank Park.
Into Greenbank Lane allotments.
All is quiet.
Someone else is about though.
We are here. Plot 44, where Sarah and Gemma garden.
Through the lovely gate. Not even the fox has stepped on this snow.
With so much covered it’s the ironwork we see.
The temple bell Gemma brought back from Japan this time last year.
Proud, vigilant and snow-filled.
This piece and the lovely gate were made by Ironwood Motif, David Low and Lindsey Nixon. In fact if you look through their catalogue you’ll find a Sarah Gate pictured. They live and work in France now, but Lindsey often comments on this blog, so it’s like they’re right next door!
Rachel’s Wollemi Pine experiencing its first snow. Seems fine.
Sarah planted this rare Australian tree in memory of her dear Australian friend Rachel. Who died of metastatic breast cancer, aged 41, in February 2012.
No watering needed today.
The woodpile that was the tired old apple tree.
Leaving Greenbank Lane.
Icicles on the Eros Fountain.
The Bandstand in the snow.
Then, call us cockeyed optimists if you must, we walked on through St Michael’s to see if the Festival Gardens have been re-opened yet. To find that they clearly have, but…
Pathetic. Closing a park because it’s snowed?
So we return through St Michael’s Wood.
Containing people who weren’t all that tall?
But not this small. Don’t worry, the foot’s just to give you an idea of relative size.
You didn’t think I’d kick it over did you? As if?
Sarah documented a year on Plot 44, the allotment she shares with her friend Gemma Jerome, here. It didn’t snow once.