#sunshine in Scotland

[lindyloosims]

We played fetch in the garden today, it is sunny in Scotland…this is not a drill! 🫣😉🐶

[etherealyearning]

Edinburgh, Scotland

[adventuresofalgy]

The restless wind had rushed through the tall spruces all night, and by the morning it had swept the drenching Scotch mist far, far away… for the moment, at least…

And, much to Algy's astonishment – for the weather birds had told him that it would remain misty and wet all week in the wild west Highlands of Scotland – the sun was beginning to shine. However, the rather-too-brisk south-westerly was ruffling his feathers in a way that was considerably less than pleasant in the cool January air, so, like many of his smaller feathered friends, Algy decided to seek cover in a dense, evergreen bush.

He knew that some of them favoured the handsome bay tree which grew in a sheltered spot in his assistants' garden, so he decided to try it for himself. Settling down on its dense branches, Algy found that it did indeed afford a great deal of protection from the wind, and the invigorating aroma of its leaves, which continued to glow bright green, even in the depths of winter, lifted his winter-weary spirits. Relaxing happily in the arms of the welcoming bush, Algy began to recite, for the benefit of any smaller birds nearby who might not have the advantage of a good literary education:

How vainly men themselves amaze To win the palm, the oak, or bays, And their uncessant labours see Crown’d from some single herb or tree, Whose short and narrow verged shade Does prudently their toils upbraid; While all flow’rs and all trees do close To weave the garlands of repose. Fair Quiet, have I found thee here, And Innocence, thy sister dear! Mistaken long, I sought you then In busy companies of men; Your sacred plants, if here below, Only among the plants will grow. Society is all but rude, To this delicious solitude. No white nor red was ever seen So am’rous as this lovely green. Fond lovers, cruel as their flame, Cut in these trees their mistress’ name; Little, alas, they know or heed How far these beauties hers exceed! Fair trees! wheres’e’er your barks I wound, No name shall but your own be found.

[Algy is reciting the first three verses of the poem The Garden by the 17th century English metaphysical poet and politician Andrew Marvell.]

[heelanhomestead]

We’ve had some lovely sunshine in the garden today and our Buddleja (butterfly bush) is definitely living up to its name. I’ve never seen so many butterflies fluttering around it … a beautiful sight and I’m enjoying every minute … 🥰🦋

[stormoflina]

[suckmyarschkarte]

it's sunny in glasgow ☀️

[heatherandthistles]

Just a gal in her coords 💅✨

[londonhorizon]

Somewhere in the Cairngorms

[neiljohnsonphotography]

Edinburgh, Scotland. May 2024.

[herbalnature]

Basking under a dance of fluffy clouds, Loch Glen Urquhart in Scotland radiates tranquil vibes. The gentle sun showers everything in warmth, making it a picture-perfect day.

[nicoscheer]

He’s on from around 00:19-00:32 and from 01:15-01:28

[adventuresofalgy]

The following day was very much brighter, with some strong February sunshine, but also a stiff breeze. In fact the whole world seemed to be in motion, although this may have had something to do with the absence of a tripod 😀

And as Algy fluttered around the garden, he was surprised to see the very first daffodil flowers of the coming spring, for these were not the early, miniature daffodils which quite often flowered at the beginning of February, but full-sized varieties which did not normally appear until many weeks later in the year.

Perching happily on the grass to watch the beautiful nodding heads glowing in the sunshine, he was reminded of a poem written "to an early daffodil", for these were indeed certainly exceptionally early, but instead of spring being laggard, and the flowers catching the gold of an April sun, they were playing in the chilly wind of a bright early February day…

Thou yellow trumpeter of laggard Spring! Thou herald of rich Summer’s myriad flowers! The climbing sun with new recovered powers Does warm thee into being, through the ring Of rich, brown earth he woos thee, makes thee fling Thy green shoots up, inheriting the dowers Till ripe and blossoming thou art a thing To fill the lonely with a joy untold; Nodding at every gust of wind to-day, To-morrow jewelled with raindrops. Always bold To stand erect, full in the dazzling play Of April's sun, for thou hast caught his gold.

[Algy is quoting the poem To an Early Daffodil by the late 19th/early 20th century American poet Amy Lowell.]

[heelanhomestead]

A beautiful October day … it’s amazing how quickly the weather can change. 😊

[bluastro-yellow]

wait a second, Gramsci is from Sardinia

that's it, Ubi Sunt? is DE's Sardinia mixed with something else, you need proof to change my mind

[suckmyarschkarte]

i would sacrifice it all for captain robbo 🥹❤️

[heatherandthistles]

Summer time means sun dresses 👗☀️