It’s been such a beautiful day. It started with the bluest sky and brightest sun and the air was filled with the whistles and screams of the Swifts, as they wheeled and dived high above my head.

As I looked around the garden the colours seemed so bright they almost seemed to shimmer and the blooms appeared to bow their heads, as if in greeting.

It was a day for sitting, for watching and for immersing yourself into the landscape and as I sat I could hear the birdsong as a soundtrack all around me.

The scalding trill of the Robin and the shrill cry of the Blackbird alerting everyone to the stranger in their midst.

The chatter and gossip of the Sparrows, which suddenly got louder and more urgent, as squabbling broke out and several of the males vied for their rightful place within their social circles.

The lawn had been cut. The Blackbird and Chaffinch took full advantage as they foraged in the short grass and probed down deep into the soil.

The water from the hose had dislodged many of the bugs from their hiding places under leaves, the  Sparrows and Robin feasted on them in the borders.

The Goldfinches and Greenfinches lined up in the bushes, noisily waiting their turn for access to the newly filled feeders of Sunflower and Niger seeds. And the Blue Tits, Coal Tits and Great Tits surreptitiously flitted to and fro, their beaks full from the fat balls and suet cakes hanging from the arch half way down the garden.

Beyond the arch, the mini meadow. Sown with wild flowers to draw in the bees and the butterflies. It appears to be working! The Bees hummed loudly as they went about their task of collecting pollen and taking advantage of the supply of free nectar. The butterflies, however, arrived as silent as thistledown on the wind. They, too, fed on the abundant supply of nectar, as they arrived to meet and mate.  Then the females headed off to lay their eggs, thus leaving us their gift of beauty and wonder in the year yet to come.

In the meadow the pink of the Campion, which has been flowering continually since the spring, has been joined by  the pink of the Corm Cockles, which have taken over from the pinks and purples of the Aqualiegia.  The blue of the Corn Flowers and the Nigella (also given the title of Love In The Mist, – which I think is almost as beautiful as the flower itself), now mixing with the pinks, the whites and the stripes of the Cosmos.

My Chrysanthemums – Polar Star – . their tiny, pale white, petals surrounding their black centers, ringed with yellow,  shine like eyes watching the world from the country cottage border. In the company of the osteospermum – Serenity – with its’  luminous yellow petals around a white ringed, black center, appear to glow in the half light of dusk and in the pale light of the moon.  As do the white Allysum which line the sides of the paving slabs,  and thus illuminate the edges of the path in the darkness.

The Foxgloves and Lupins are going over now. Their petals. on their tall spires, are giving way to the little pods which hold their seeds, and the hope for next years colours, safely sealed inside.

As I had stood, in the early morning, dousing the borders with water from the hose, the scent of lavender had risen up to greet my senses. Now, in the evening,  as the light is fading and the sun sinks below the horizon,  I am standing by the back door surrounded by the fragrance of the Honeysuckle. It envelopes me like a blanket, airy and comforting. Soothing my senses and smothering the worries of the day,  as if to clear them from my mind.

… it really was a most beautiful day.