reader, writer, daydreamer
We walked slowly under blossom, delicate clouds of candyfloss pink freckling the silver sky.
We trod softly over fallen petals, bright confetti glowing against mud and grass and boots.
We ran in the rain, puddles blooming across our jeans, our jackets, our skin.
We passed daffodils, sunbursts puncturing the earth.
And as we went, I felt my heart gently start to thaw.
The weather here has been perfect for the last few weeks. Blazing blue skies. Glittering sunshine. The ocassional wandering, lonely cloud.
And, to top it all off, there are roses, roses everywhere.
I am obsessed with the Mayor of Casterbridge rosebush in our garden at the moment. It’s overflowing with blooms; a flowerfall of pink petals and leafy greens. And it smells beautiful too, like a lush, floral summer-punch to the nose.
I’m spending an embarrassing amount of time trying to capture its beauty with my camera and on my phone. Different days, different lights, different angles, different (and undignified) stances to get those angles, holding my breath, trying to keep still, cursing any breeze but then delighting in the waft of rosy air that washes my face after it.
None of the photos seem to come out right, though, no matter how many I take.
If I could invite you all over to see it in the flowery flesh, I would.
But, for now, these three photos will have to do instead.
I hope your June is filled with sunshine and rosy moments.
❤
Lately, it’s been raining a lotta lot. It’s been cold and grey and cloudy a lotta lot.
On the one hand: it’s great weather for cosy, snug-as-a-bug-in-a-rug reading. It’s great weather for big, baggy, woolly jumpers – my favourite things to wear. It’s great weather for cuddles with cats. It’s great for cheeky hot chocolates and holier than thou herbal teas. It’s great for baths so hot they turn my ghost-white skin a radioactive-pink. It’s great for morning runs that leave my lungs fresh and clean, but my legs unable to cope with stairs. It’s great for irridescent road rainbows shining, bleeding, and swirling across tarmac. It’s great for lazy lie ins spent listening to the drum of raindrops against lush leaves and blooming petals.
On the other hand: it’s Juuuuune.
*folds away summer dresses and cries tears that turn to ice in the air*
Oh well.
*wipes away icicle tears*
At least roses still look beautiful after rain.
It all started with a piece of golden glitter card and the magpie in my soul.
I was supposed to be tidying. I was supposed to be bringing order to the chaos inside the boxes under my bed. I was supposed to be letting go of things I hadn’t used in years. But then a twinkle caught my eye and all hope of tidiness and orderliness was lost.
I knew exactly what I was going to do.
I was going to make a moon. (I have to admit this is one of my more avant-garde reasons for not tidying, but any excuse will do.)
Leaving the boxes to their messy fate, I left my bedroom clutching the glitter card reverantly in one hand and pva glue, a pencil, and a pair of scissors in the other.
Some serious, serious crafting was about to happen.
What actually happened was this: I drew a moon, I cut out a moon, I glued the back of the moon to the back of some more glitter card, and then I left it to dry on a radiator for two. whole. weeks. Woops.
I did finally get back round to it – and the boxes, which is a minor miracle – and by the time I was eventually finished I had myself a not-too-shabby (even if I do say so myself) glitter moon bookmark.
Then, a few weeks after finishing my bookmark moon and completely by chance, I came across the eye-wateringly beautiful book Paper to Petal by Rebecca Thuss and Patrick Farrell. I love flowers and – surprise, surprise – I love bookmarks, so their tutorial for a paper flower bookmark made me super happy.
And I managed to finish it in well under two weeks, so that’s some crafty-progress for you right there.
It was so nice to get back into making things after a long, long break from the world of crafting, and it’s been so nice using them – especially as I’ve got five books on the go at the moment (which is very unusual for me). I’ve certainly needed them to keep me sane.
It’s amazing where (half-hearted) tidying can lead.
❤
The day was silver; cloud flooded and icy cold.
The ground was speckled white with snowdrops, sometimes pink with cyclamen, sometimes even yellow with daffodils. A great big shiny promise of spring.
Soon. One last winter-soaked breath.
We escaped away from the crowds, away from the drops of snow, away from accidentally photobombing people’s flowery snaps, and wandered into the woods.
Wandering into the woods is always a good idea, despite what the fairytales tell you.
We found no wolves or witches.
Only petals fallen to the path and camellia stars stuck to the sky.
Spring is bluebell time of year in England.
Woods and gardens bubble over with purple-blue droplets, speckled against a background of the brightest green.
There are those who say it is dangerous to walk amongst the bluebells. They say some never return from their wanderings, snatched away by fairies.
And if you hear the bluebells ring, it is said, you’ll die before the next morning.
I say, I’m willing to take my chances…
I love this time of year.
Days slowly getting longer. Brave flowers peeping up out of the cool ground. Promising warmth in golden sunshine.
It’s a happy mix of the perks of winter – the cosy evenings in front of the fire, a pair of cold hands kept warm by a mug of hot chocolate, rosy red cheeks from frosty air – whilst knowing that spring and summer, with all their greenness and sunniness and loveliness, are on the way.
A late winter magic.
I try to spend as much time as possible outside at this point in the year, soaking in some much needed sun rays and enjoying all the bursts of bright colour in amongst the greens and browns.
It makes me happy, hopeful, and energised.
Here’s to a good week ahead!
❤
Joanna Corbet 