I am not a gardener, I don't see the appeal of flower growing or grass cutting, I just don't get it, B is the house gardener. Occasionally I help out when height or a bit of muscle is required. Last summer was one such occasion.
In the back garden there is a blossom tree. For the last two springs it has been very subdued, not much blossom at all. It was almost submerged by next-door's laurel trees. So last summer we decided to spend a few hours cutting back the laurels where they were over the fence and over our garden. Then, two months ago our neighbour hired tree surgeons to reduce the height of the laurels. This spring has seen a very different tree.
I have to confess to feeling very pleased that our joint gardening effort has encouraged this lovely blossom. This triumph has enthused me to sort out the fence with my other neighbour, that fence being covered with ivy. The last photo also includes our pheasant cock who has returned to us for another spring, this time with a coterie of two hens. We also have a pair of bullfinches, one of the loveliest looking birds of these islands.