I keep forgetting to blog and then the things I do seem to be ages ago. Maybe I'll just let go and blog randomly and if old stuff comes to mind and the time seems to be right I'll just jot it down here anyway.  But for today a couple of photos of some playing that I did today. I've been doing a little work as an arts facilitator recently. It's very free-ing. Being a student and education is wonderful, but, it can squeeze, squeeze, squeeze the life out of a thing, so it's refreshing and inspiring to be working at a different level with different people.

It's that time of year when I catalogue what is flowering in my garden and make note of the weather and the birdsong. Perhaps it's a silly ritual but I was interested to notice that although it has felt like spring is late, it seems that year in since 2012 this is the time that the forget-me-nots flower. 
So here goes; the plums are blossoming, there are loads of violets and primroses, the forget-me-nots and bluebells are just beginning to flower, a lot of my daffodils are blind but those that aren't are in full bloom, some of the tulips are out, there are hellebores - pink and white - a single cowslip and a couple of snakes-head fritilliary (sp?), dandelions and hyacinth and the last of the snowflakes (I'm not sure if this is their right name, they are a tall snowdrop-like flower). The cow parsley and alexanders and honesty are in bud as is the cherry tree and the ramsoms and lords and ladies are in good leaf. Oh, and my crazy, blousy camelia is looking beautiful, flowering and still in bud too. It's taken me eight years to love this plant, but it looks lovely where it is planted now and seems to be thriving, what more could I ask ?         

And today there has been a touch of spring in the air, warm enough to sit outside with a mug of tea as the light was fading, the birds are full of song and flowers are flowering or in bud. It's that time of year when I have most hope for my garden. Most hope that I will manage to nudge it towards looking amazing for months on end. To be honest I have yet to manage this but I enjoy trying.
I was given a big pile of wood-chip by the tree surgeon who looks after my trees. It has filled the front garden so I've been shifting it on to the flower beds and re-covering the path that runs down the length of my back garden because I need the parking space for my shiatsu clients this week. 
I've also been repotting my outdoor pot plants, a job I've been hankering to do for a while but just not got round to it. Today and Good Friday have been the first days that I've been able to give myself a fair chunk of the day gardening. Gardening is great for my heart. It's sweet to get some grit under my fingernails and to begin to see what is growing and what is not.  

Lastly, special mention goes to the snails that were out in great number, in shells that came in many colours and lots of stripe variations.

The flowers were mostly pussy willow, but the brambles, hawthorn and wild roses were coming into leaf  in the hedgerows, and there was white blossom, maybe sloes or blackthorn ?

There was a fair size flock of geese gathered on the scrapes, honking and sporadically rising in flight when spooked. This was dramatic and very lovely. 

And the scrapes ..

So here's a few pictures of the river and a view across the river.

The sculpture trail follows a loose figure of eight which divides into four main sections, the lake, the lawns, the river walk & the scrapes. The resident deer have the run of pretty much everywhere except the river walk and it is thought they will be confined to the scrapes and maybe the lawns for the duration of the exhibition. My piece is textile and probably will be nibbled if the deer can get at it so I focused my attention on the river walk which is my favourite bit anyway, truth be told. 

I needed to find a place for my proposed sculpture to be sited on the Sculpture trail. The previous week had been great, meeting the other artists and curators, but as regards connecting to the land I felt I had only just found my bearings. So this saturday I went alone to give myself a chance to see quietly. My secondary motive was to gather alder cones which are plentiful and give good colour. 

Getting to the old Otter Trust at Earsham from my home is a small trek that involves a walk and a bus and another fair walk. It took the whole day, and the bus ride to Bungay is a familiar journey that breaks my heart just a little, but it was a day well spent. And it is interesting laying new memories over old, it may be possible to mark time, to scratch a note out here and there, but stopping it, I think, is not possible or desirable.  

On monday I had a go making some rough cyanotype prints with some old paper that I'd made up last summer. I used three found things from my visit to Waveney trail space on saturday; a crow's skull, an unopened umbelliferous flower head and a small folded triangle.

Close ups of prints I made today from some stitched pieces.