writing

Seasonal living Grace Alexander Seasonal living Grace Alexander

Taking a moment

There is much to be sad about in the world at the moment, and much to care about. I grieve for the loss of biodiversity, for the loss of ancient trees and woodland, and for the erosion of women's rights around the world, but I understand that many will also wish to mourn the loss of the Queen at 8pm this Sunday evening.

And so an early, photo-essay newsletter from me to respect this, and I will raise a very hopeful glass this evening to Charles who, just maybe, might be the gardening king.

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Little black book Grace Alexander Little black book Grace Alexander

Cornish gardens

My lovely,

If you ever want to witness the rate of growth in a garden, leave it for a week in June. We have been away, camping in Cornwall. For complicated reasons, we returned in the middle of the night and it was as if the kitchen garden had doubled in size. In the clear night, with a sky studded with stars, we shuttle bags and sleepy dogs along the path. I am certain that when we left, it was a sensible sort of width. On our return, a scant week later, we can barely fit down it, and we are painted from mid-thigh to toes with raindrops by flopping Lady’s Mantles and sanguisorba.

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