Ah, the English Garden

Yesterday afternoon, Saturday, Greg and I took a stroll down the High Street to the Botanic Gardens. Not the Botanical Gardens, mind you, the Botanic Gardens. One more British word-curiosity. (You stop questioning after a while and just go with the flow.)

 This is not a garden on a grand scale, and yet it was absolutely beautiful! I won't write much here, but I will share a bunch of images from our wanderings . . .

I've always thought Greg has a very nice profile.

Some of the patterns seen in growing things just blow my mind. Here are some we saw today:

The bark on this tree looks like a woven pattern!

You couldn't find more order from an obsessive-compulsive.

The color of this bark (kind of birch-like) is not exaggerated!

Finally, they had a small iris garden that was just at full tilt. My artist mom has done some amazing pastels of irises over the years, so this is a little love-note to me mum . . .

I wish I could include the glorious fragrance for you!

This is my Father's world, 
 and to my listening ears 
 all nature sings, and round me rings 
 the music of the spheres.  
 This is my Father's world:  
 I rest me in the thought 
 of rocks and trees, of skies and seas; 
 his hand the wonders wrought.