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I went to see my family this Saturday, and it was a warm, lazy, mosey-moving sort of day too. The morning was just made to stroll around in a garden, coffee cup in one hand, camera in the other. The sun shone just enough to warm the skin, without causing one to sweat profusely. The summer in Seattle this year has been hot—almost unbearably so. But as a result, my parents’ garden flourished. 
The winter was harsh this year, causing a tree to nearly keel under the weight of the snow. Funnily enough, my mother improvised with the new change. As you can see, she decided to hang hanging baskets with fuchsias off the now-lowered branches.
The tree's shade did the trick in protecting the light and heat sensitive fuchsia!
My father's vegetables and fruits did very well this year too!
What a lovely day! What a great time to be in the garden, and what a summer!
My mother would tell you, her head shaking, that the garden is awfully messy. What with the uncontrollable growth of the weeds, the roses not being hedged properly, etc. I think it's perfect. It's perfectly imperfect.
The winter was harsh this year, causing a tree to nearly keel under the weight of the snow. Funnily enough, my mother improvised with the new change. As you can see, she decided to hang hanging baskets with fuchsias off the now-lowered branches.
The tree's shade did the trick in protecting the light and heat sensitive fuchsia!
My father's vegetables and fruits did very well this year too!
What a lovely day! What a great time to be in the garden, and what a summer!
My mother would tell you, her head shaking, that the garden is awfully messy. What with the uncontrollable growth of the weeds, the roses not being hedged properly, etc. I think it's perfect. It's perfectly imperfect.
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