Today in #Rakesden...

Wildlings are not unwelcome.

I am loathe to howk out the sycamore seedlings in Undercherry where the chocolate tint to their fresh foliage picks up that same chocolatey bronzey tone you get in the bugle. Even when they've greened up, I'm thinking they won't be big enough to worry about for a year or three.

In Tupsbeard Knot, behold the crosiers of the ferns that flank it, like guards at the paths either side through to the bin cubbies. Second pic suffers from the vagaries of the iPad's autofocus, which does *not* like doing close-ups, but the first one captures them better.

I do not know what these two varieties of tulip are called officially, but they are "strawberry ripple" and "watermelon sorbet" as far as *I'm* concerned.

In Laburnum Howe, all the weans of the fair folk know NOT TO STRAY PAST THE COWSLIP, for the Stones are the domain of spirits elder even than their kin. The only real threat now is the wayward teen faeries,of course, drinking teeny cans of lager and smoking spliffs of an evening.

And while I'm here, I thought I'd post a few more old pics that I've footered around with to fancy them up a bit. This is Smolsneuk in summer last year, with the welsh poppies & aquilegia gone to seed and no bugle in sight, but still feeling somehow very much... a Neuk of Smols.

From the smols to the BIG, the cherry in autumn. I'm rather liking the abstract pattern of fracturing by the dark of the branches and telephone lines with the dark frame to bind it all together.

And two other favourite pics from last summer, for the fizz of foliage in one and the natural dappling of sunlight and the palette of the other, the pink flush to the stone of the cubby's top and the tenement walls.