40 photos

There is a garden where lilies and roses are side by side; and all day between them in silence the silken butterflies glide.
(Francis Turner Palgrave)

27 photos

To see the world in a grain of sand, and a heaven in a wild flower, hold infinity in the palm of your hand, and eternity in an hour. (William Blake)

32 photos

If you want to find the peace that Nature can bestow you have to walk the quiet ways by little paths that go into the unfrequented places far from fumes and crowds- to lost and lonely valleys and to hills amongst the clouds. (Patience Strong)

126 photos

Now the long, wailing flight of geese brings Autumn in its train, so to the view-tower, cup in hand, to fill and drink again, and dream of the great singers of the past, their fadeless lines of fire and beauty cast, I have felt the wild-bird thrill of song behind the bars, but these have brushed the world aside and walked amid the stars. (Li T'ai-po)

25 photos

In amongst the hedgerows along the country lanes, deep inside the thickets protected from the rains.
Their garden is the wild grass that grows along the side, that is where the county folk go to when they hide.
Badgers, Foxes, Rabbits, Snakes and all the rest, Hedgehogs, Mice and Dunnocks sit upon their nest.
In amongst the hedgerows protected from the rains, deep inside the thickets along the country lanes. (Rebelrouser)

16 photos

Mine is the freedom of the tranquil hills when vagrant breezes bend the sinewy grass, while sunshine on the widespread landscape spills and light us down the fleet cloud-shadowed pass. (Douglas Fraser)

33 photos

A spider's web, suspends the space between two tall trees that seem to transcend their roots, in cycles to the light they climb nourished by the stream of time; and in the dew, drips something new where fungi sprout their magic. (Roy K)

16 photos

These tiny loiterers on the barley's beard, And happy units of a numerous herd Of playfellows, the laughing Summer brings, Mocking the sunshine on their glittering wings, How merrily they creep, and run, and fly! No kin they bear to labour's drudgery, Smoothing the velvet of the pale hedge-rose; And where they fly for dinner no one knows - The dew-drops feed them not - they love the shine Of noon, whose suns may bring them golden wine All day they're playing in their Sunday dress - When night reposes, for they can do no less; Then, to the heath-bell's purple hood they fly, And like to princes in their slumbers lie, Secure from rain, and dropping dews, and all, In silken beds and roomy painted hall. So merrily they spend their summer-day, Now in the corn-fields, now in the new-mown hay. One almost fancies that such happy things, With coloured hoods and richly burnished wings, Are fairy folk, in splendid masquerade Disguised, as if of mortal folk afraid, Keeping their joyous pranks a mystery still, Lest glaring day should do their secrets ill. John Clare

33 photos

The recording of culture is history; but our culture is more than that, it's the world of human action, and the myths we make of fact. (David SmithWhite)

24 photos

I know a bank whereon the wild thyme blows Where oxlips and the nodding violet grows Quite canopied over with luscious woodbine With sweet muskroses and with eglantine. W Shakespeare

69 photos