If you grew up in England when I did, a very long time ago, there’s a good chance that you had nature study classes. If you lived in a town, perhaps that meant a crocodile walk to the nearest park. Mine was, and even though I moved away I live close to that same park now. I loved the huge trees then and I was heartbroken when many of the ancient beings were lost in the 1987 hurricane.
I think the main reason for those classes was some respite for teachers while little horrors like me got to let off some steam. I knew the names of all the trees back then, but somewhere at the end of childhood I forgot most of them.
Luckily there’s a green at the bottom of my road. I once counted more than twenty varieties of trees there but only know what half of them are. Today I stopped in my tracks when I saw these unfolding leaf buds. It most likely is a native tree, but the complementary colours opposite on the colour wheel and their striking form made them something different to me.
Tina set the Lens Artist challenge theme this week, with ‘Something different‘. Her cactus photos are amazing but I love the pink flowers.
Day 21 of Becky’s March 
If you stretch your imagination, you might see the M that I see, M for Meg who will like this cliff in north Devon.
This tiny snail is perfectly formed, a young Fibonacci in the making.
One of England’s prettiest wild flowers, and one with medicinal properties, containing digitalin.
I captured a magical vertical cloud.
Also for Meg, the odd place on the south Devon coast where the white chalk stone of Beer ends and the red sandstone of Seaton begins.
When I walked in the valley park this morning, the hedge between what I call the middle and bottom fields, had been recently laid. It’s opened up the view from the middle field at the rear of this photo way across the hills on the west of the estuary.
Lucid Gypsy 