In a world striving for pinterest perfect, I find it a relief that all sorts of beauty can still be had right under our noses.
Ugly beautiful.
Like this little lilac blossom.
It's quite deformed. I don't know why, but I can't seem to get my lilacs to look natural. They seem stunted somehow, like they're holding back and afraid of running amok on their privet root stock. I've planted an assortment of different species on their own root stock, but keep wanting to persevere with the grafted syringa.
I adore the fragrance. I think it is one of my favourites.
Can't you catch a whiff of the delicate scent?
Even though the leaves curl up and the flowers brown off and seem weird and wonderful, I still enjoy the fragrance.
I'll take loveliness as I find it and make the most of it.
This malformed old rose still has the most gorgeous scent. It is all weird and wonderful too, but so pretty and happy to be appreciated in its imperfection. Black spot and all.
Why do we reject the imperfect? Flowers don't abide by rules in our garden.
Who says I have to prune back the hydrangeas after flowering? The plants get pruned in due course and they're always prolific.
I can still enjoy the surprise of a cheerful blue blossom long after summer.
The winter light caught this one amid the spent old brown heads and mottled leaves.
A moment to stop and savour the late afternoon sunshine catching the pretty petals in hues of blue.
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