The path is lined by delicate heart leaves and flowers of epimedium
and the white of the "bluebells" which shine in the morning air.
It is always full of movement, as the big green laurel and the spiky tree stump hold bird feeders with all sorts of goodness. There are fat balls and cylinders, peanuts, which the squirrel hangs upside down to steal, a seed feeder which the fat pigeons set swaying as they land awkwardly on its platform and a tray with meal worms for the little chicks that must be hatching sometime soon
Towards the end of the path is the deep red of the Japanese maple, bought for me by Mum many years ago. It lived in a pot until I knew I'd found the place where I would stop. Now it's delicate leaves are sensitive to every drift if air that ripples through them; they fill the space with fluttering movement
Near the house there are the outrageous, blowsy flowers of the ranunculus that were my Mother's Day gift this year and, if you look very carefully, in the shade of the dark laurel leaves, you will see the soft oval of a blue tit's body, wings made invisible by their speed, arrowing straight for the food that waits for him on the spiky stump that was once an unruly conifer gown past its space.
See, here he is.A pleasing view to greet to greet me each day.