[straig]

[twohopelesswanderers-blog1]

15th September - Ryton organic gardens

Anyone who knows me, will tell you i am absolutely obsessed with all things autumnal, therefore when it reaches this time of year, I am constantly harping on about being outdoors. The leaves are turning reds, golds and browns, and the air smells of smoke and bonfire toffees. So yesterday me and my boyfriend went to explore Ryton Organic Gardens in Coventry, and it was wonderful. Once you step inside, you feel like you have been transported right into Francis Burnett’s ‘the secret Garden.’ It’s filled with nooks and crannies perfect for reading or conjuring up a pans labyrinthine type novel. There is also a vast array of wildlife, with careful consideration given to protect the tiny creatures that play an essential part of our eco-structure, with various ‘bee hotels’ scattered throughout. Additionally, they have a therapeutic garden which utilities volunteers who experience a variety of physical and mental health difficulties, in order to promote their recovery and social inclusion. The volunteers tend to a memorial and a sensory garden for those who are visually impaired, and you can see the care, dedication and pride in their work. As you can see from the photos, many a happy hour can be spent wandering the grounds, and when you fancy a little change of scene they have wonderful vegetarian cafe so you can stop off for a delicious treat along the way! Would definitely recommend.

#autumn

#fall

#coventry

#ryton gardens

#organic

#vegetarian

#gardens

#nature

#plants

#thestockpotcafe

#ryton

[cheshirecat1707-blog]

“Mr. Holmes, they were the footprints of a gigantic hound!” - Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

[violetanavarro]

[bourbonheadstones]

[cozyautumnhalloween]

[reasonsfortheseason]

🎃

[helterrskeltered]

[quotethatfilm]

Submarine (2010)

[lillithblackwell]

When, however, one reads of a witch being ducked, of a woman possessed by devils, of a wise woman selling herbs, or even of a very remarkable man who had a mother, then I think we are on the track of a lost novelist, a suppressed poet, of some mute and inglorious Jane Austen, some Emily Bronte who dashed her brains out on the moor or mopped and mowed about the highways crazed with the torture that her gift had put her to. Indeed, I would venture to guess that Anon, who wrote so many poems without signing them, was often a woman.

Virginia Woolf, A Room of One’s own (via lillithblackwell)

[frie-nds]

[solitary-forest-witch]

[photography-cnl]

I need solitude. I need space. I need air. I need the empty fields round me; and my legs pounding along roads; and sleep; and animal existence.

Virginia Woolf, The Diary of Virginia Woolf  (via h-o-r-n-g-r-y)

[velhocaos]

[freshbrewedlife]

[delta-breezes]

Ezgi Polat

[swanss-deactivated20130604]

[wandawils-blog]

Twin Peaks: Fire Walk with Me (1992) dir. David Lynch

[dailypotter]

“So eet ees lucky ‘e is marrying me, because ze British overcook ‘zair meat, I ‘ave always said this.“