Solar fountains are dependent on sunshine to flow, and so in the dappled light of my garden they continually change shape. Sometimes they are no more than a gurgle, then they plume up in sunlit sparkles. This shape shifting is hypnotically fascinating and adds to the 'theatre' of my courtyard gardens.
A winding mountain road in the Himalayas led to meadows of flowers above a line of pilgrims making their way to a holy site. Dri grazed among the primulas, together with their calves. All with a magnificent back-drop of mountains.
This Giantlaughing Thrush was delightful bird intent on gathering insects for its brood while I watched it among the flowers and grasses of a moist mountain meadow.
Expecting rain in the monsoon month of July, I was thrilled to see snow falling as we drove ever higher in the Chola Shan in the eastern Himalayas. We stopped at a high pass where jewel like fragments of flowers showed through the white covering.
Many of the flowers in the Himalayas are at their finest during the monsoon. To fully enjoy their beauty I had to come to terms with a rain-soaked aesthetic in which drops of water were caught on the hairs of Meconopsis and held on the tips of petals.
In high summer I take my lunch to eat in the courtyard between house and garden. Here there is a swaying, a buzzing and a fluttering of flowers and bees and butterflies. I find a happy tranquility that I thought I would share.
The Tibetans harness air, stone and water, the elements of their land, to reach out in perpetual prayers. A side stream slipping into the Yulong River in the Eastern Himalayas provides power for these water driven prayer wheels. From gleaming brass wheels newly installed, to other older styles, the prayer wheels reach up the mountainside; forever turning.
A flower rich meadow on the slopes of the Eastern Himalayas had a small herd of goats eating away. They were however browsing not grazing, reaching up, not down for their chosen delicacies. Goats, flowers and mountains; it was quite a place.
Mani stones, prayers carved in stone, are a form of devotional land art in the Himalayas. They are met with along roadsides and rivers, or placed together to form mounds and long walls, an offering to spirits of place.
Early May is bursting with leaf and flower and song. Walking down through the Penberth Valley there is the continuous sound of the river together with the birds singing through the woodland. On reaching the sea the murmuring of quiet waves accompanies the birds of moorland and rocky shores.