How things grow

I know she's growing: she can hold an ice lolly.



The tree has grown a treehouse and a boy beneath it's branches.

Is there anything more magic (aside from seeing children grow) than seeing your own garden, planted with your very hands, in bloom?





Every day I sit and look, pluck, firm, weed, transfer, marvel, exclaim, water, breath deeply and recive some of that live greenness - with my eyes and every other bit of me.





With a bucket, rope or watering can we use the stream to quench the thirst of our greens.





I am loving today:

~ the way she lies on the trampoline and tries to say 'night-night!'



~ old soft, organic fairtrade baby trousers, blowing in the breeze.



~ the way he sieves sand, finer and finer to make 'magic powders'



~ the sunflower competition



~ so far in the lead is:



~ this old, faded and shabby summer skirt that has a comforting, familiar second skin feeling



~ and the touch wood feelng that I am on the mend :)