glasshouses

Edinburgh was scenic. We sauntered up and down hilly pathways and strained our necks to see the bottom of gracefully perilous coves. We had sublime tea at The Balmoral and negronis with lunch,whilst surrounded by fresh flowers at Maison Bleue. At The Old Town Bookshop,my sister bought her favorite volume of William Wordsworth’s poetry, while I went for a penguin edition of Katherine Mansfield’s Something Childish but Very Natural.And then we went to the Royal Botanical Garden.

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For a small fee we trailed around the Centre’s 9 glasshouses,which all depicted a varied species of flora, as well as the temperatures of the climate and regions from which they originate. I imagined that I was in the desert in Nevada and a few minutes later was awakened to the spicy petrichor that is a rainy day in Santiago. It was little short of a miracle.If the glasshouse above were in a book, I would suggest Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream.

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summer rain

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There is so much I have been meaning to tell you.

Petrichor.

(peˌtrīkôr) noun | the pleasant scent of the earth after it rains.

  • etymology: petra = “stone” + ichor = the fluid that flows in the veins of the gods in Greek mythology.

In Lagos summer is synonymous with heavy rainfall.It is comforting to go to bed, listening to fat raindrops thrumming on the rooftop.It is my lullaby, alongside all these great music I’ve discovered recently.In the year and half  between a broken heart and my mother’s absence from the world,I had stopped feeling music.I discovered a song here and there that I fancied, but I felt nothing in a guitar’s strum.What I had listened to in the past(usually a playlist made for me by my past love, or some Sting and Andrea Boccelli that reminded me of sweet mummy) I wanted to leave behind,at least for a while.Recently I discovered Alice Smith’s song The One and it is everything. Bombay Bicycle Club’s  You Already Know is so poetic and kinda my jam. These songs,they feel as though they belong to me.

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And when it rains during the afternoons,I can sometimes be found at my favourite cafe,wolfing down a tuna baguette with an accompanying cup of strong chai. I sit on the patio and gulp in that delicious earthy scent that makes everything feel okay. Rather than being the architect of great imaginings,I stay in the moment. I am happy and I mean that sincerely.

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Today was an almost clone of my treasured afternoons,until I discovered Alexa Chung’s Art of British Style cover for the July issue of Harper’s Bazaar. The bouquets of hydrangeas and Alexa on a boat in a ridiculously beautiful dress,wow! It reminds me of that dreamlike essence you find in Monet’s paintings.

Ease in

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I thought that sharing some  leftover pictures of nature around  Venice Beach, Los Angeles, would help me get back into the swing of blogging.

When I left London for Lagos, for my mummy’s funeral amongst other things, I believed that I would be in no mood to take pictures for a long time and so I left my camera behind.But I have now realized that in life we must go on, sometimes a lot sooner that we initially anticipated.

I miss  holding my camera and most especially the close relationhip I  have developed with nature(a lot harder to keep up in terribly hot and rowdy Lagos). I miss roadtrips, I miss my mummy most of all, but life keeps birthing new days and I must not turn my face away, but indulge in them.

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Enid A.Haupt Garden

Okay, so I do take a lot of pictures of flora, but there was something about it not being  my usual experience this time around.It wasn’t me being back home in London,whipping my camera out and crossing the road to Regent’s Park. It was somewhere new and I was quite curious to feel a sense of calm and work on my photography in a new environment.

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This garden at first sight, isn’t particularly stunning. In Regent’s Park, the Queen Mary’s Garden is a bit of a rose titnted paradise. This is not to say this little garden isn’t fantastic, because it is.It is one of those places that feels like the more you unravel, the more beauty you see. So as I walked into little tents of foliage,I was swept away by the array of plant life before my eyes.

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The picture with the busy bee doing his own thing is my favourite. My desire to capture him certainly superceded the fear that he could jump on my nose and sting me in a second!

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So if you happen to visit the Smithsonian and want a bit of a break from all the museums, do pop into the Enid A.Haupt garden, it is a botannical feast for your senses and I can’t wait to go back. I also hear that it is a dream when the cherry blossoms are in town.

 

Holland Park (flora)

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Nevermind that it is quite an ungodly hour(we went dancing at The Welly tonight..),sleep hasn’t knocked on my door yet. Instead, I’m eating chocolate,swapping messages with an ‘ awkward Italian psychiatrist gentleman'(it feels inaccurate to describe him without all four words apostrophized)and sharing some pictures of beautiful flora from Holland Park.The first picture is my most favourite of all flora observed. It is my opinion that the stamen look quite like blackberries.