All This And Each Other Too

Yesterday, after a working on my studio space which is almost ready for its big unveiling, John and I took a little walk. We went out the door with a clear mission seeking the first signs of spring. We were hoping to find Snowdrops, the flowers you see below.

Pushing through the earth on an old grave in the churchyard, we caught our first glimpse of the green and white flowers.

Moving farther down the hill, we went to a secret place we know of that will look like a carpet of green and white in a few weeks as the snowdrops raise their heads and begin to open. Most of them are still budlike and new, but if you go in close for a better look, scattered among the green stalks with their bowed heads of tightly closed petals, you can see a few opening with centers that look almost etched with color in vibrant shades of green.

We follow a familiar path as we walk through the buttercup field and cross over this water. As I take this photograph, ย I comment to John that this is the shade of green I wanted to duplicate in my studio space when I bought the fabric to recover an old chair. ย I promise you these are real colors saturated by nature, not Photoshop that light up like this even in the late afternoon light of a shadowy wood.

More shades of green with a leaf tucked in the space were it fell last fall.

The bluish purple of this water always calls me to this spot and I have tried to duplicate it in my studio color scheme. It is one of the many colors in the fabric I used to recover my daybed.

It was about here that John took my hand and said, ” We are so lucky to have all this and each other too. ” I often think the same thing and have said it myself. It’s lovely to know that we share an appreciation of our space and each other in such a similar way.

This celtic cross marks the way into our village and behind it you see a stile I cross over sometimes on my way through a farmer’s field. It’s from this field, I was able to photograph a snowy view of our village a few weeks ago with the church tower in the background.

These horses always come to greet me when I pass by. ( I must remember to bring the sugar cubes I bought for them )

After our walk, we stopped by the pub for a cider for John and diet lemonade for me before heading for home. I gave a few dogs in the pub a good cuddle and we chatted with some friends before stepping outside into the evening light. I couldn’t help but snap a few pictures trying to capture this peaceful scene as we walked up the hill towards home.

15 thoughts on “All This And Each Other Too

  1. Every year I go tromping out to try and capture the beautiful things I can see close to my home. Some I have to drive to although they are not that far away; others are literally outside my door on the edge of the town. Snowdrops are the first thing I look for. Then its crocuses, followed by daffodils, the wild explosion of white and pink as the trees come out, bluebells, and on through the summer. Autumn is endlessly fascinating, and I love the textures of dried leaves, bare branches and red dogwood stalks in winter.

    I have learned a few things about my camera in the last year although my skills are sill very by-guess and by-golly. I hope I can do better than on previous attempts, particulary for the snowdrops which you have captured so beautifully in the winter light. In my pictures the church is one of Hampshire flints rather than the Cornish granite that (it looks like) graces yours, but isn’t it lovely how the snowdrops themselves are placeless, and always look so fresh. The green of your moss just glows.

    Like you, I try to capture the colours of what I see outside, inside. Long ago I came to the conclusion that nature always does it much better than I could ever hope to, which is perfectly fine but it doesn’t stop me from trying! My dream would be to have a nice, big room to work in with sky lights and at least one glass wall facing a favourite views (one by land and two by sea, sorry mr revere). That way I could live ‘out there amongst it’ even while being warm and comfortable inside, and at night sleep under the stars. I’m looking forward to seeing your studio unveiling – such an exciting thing, the portal to a new world of your own.

  2. It’s snowing here and will continue to snow until, well sometimes it even snows in May. Green is what I miss the most in winter here. And the green of that moss is beyond lovely, it’s the color of heaven.

  3. I am oohing and ahhing out loud as you take us on your walk. We live on quite a few acres of ranch land in Texas and yet as I have crossed the whole of it I could never see the dreamy sights you have shared. But, hello, Texas/English countryside, yep, there are differences. John is so correct….all that and each other too!

  4. Magical!!
    Reminds me of my backpacking days several decades ago – some of the images remind me of some areas in Joyce Kilmer Memorial Forest in North Carolina, USA. Love those moss-covered trees! And the horses…!!!
    A very special post. Thanks

  5. I almost cried when I read this post. The beauty of your surroundings and then taking them into your new space through their colors and the relationship you and John share. Just incredibly moving.

  6. I was going to say how lucky you both are but it is more than that. You both grabbed an opportunity which so many of us don’t have the courage for. If only I had done the same 10 years ago!

    On a 2nd subject, do they have wild mushrooms in your area, like our morrell mushrooms? With spring so close there, it would be almost time for hunting if they did!

  7. it’s always one of the best parts of my day to join you in your picture perfect walks. thank you so much for sharing your world. you are indeed lucky to have the beauty around you and with you in your life with John.

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