30/52 Garden


This is the garden I used to visit every week with my grandma, around 30 years ago. It belongs to the Wardown Park Museum, the only museum I have ever really loved- its old lady lacemaking, its dolls houses and hats and the bee hive built into the wall by the window at the top of the wooden waxed staircase, with a view of the garden below.

All those years ago the flower beds were full of roses, pale peach and pearly pink, set in the centre of a perfectly manicured garden. Now they are much wilder, the colours haphazard and free.

But not as free as these flowers, outside the official garden,  blooming to please themselves and the bees and me.




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A little flower harvest from my favorite garden, my mother’s beautiful and bountiful allotment. As our holiday draws to an end, I wish we could bring this idyllic little piece of land with us back to the big city, so that my daughter could always feel some dirt between her fingers and we’d all feel connected to the earth.