April has been enchanting, perhaps made all the more so by the fact that we have only been able to steal precious moments here and there. Times when the spring sunshine has played through the ash copse at the back of the house, and glinted through the unfurling leaves below. Light and dark at play, as though mimicking the tussle between winter and spring.
A little warmth and light has a magical effect, causing buds to open and birds to sing; bees to emerge from hibernation, and butterflies to flit across the lawn. Pairs of small, dark Speckled Woods danced for days in crazy spiralling flights, and then disappeared.
The top of the garden has become our place of solace; its dappled light a balm for the senses.
It’s where garden longs to become part of the copse beyond, and we let it stray in that direction.
The plants are shade-loving, woodland types. Many, such as the violets, cowslips, primroses, and forget-me-nots, have self-seeded and are happy to spread at will.
To these we’ve added ferns, fritillaries, hostas and hellebores; and, from the honesty box at No 92, solomon’s seal and a white-flowered lungwort, its leaves flecked with white splashes.
Mottled, dappled, sunshine and shade.