Saturday morning

I opened my front door this morning to the beautiful scent of roses. This glorious fragrance invited itself into my home and floated down the hall way.

My front garden is more traditional - with roses, camielas, azealeas and geraniums.

The back garden is a mixture. On one side I have camelias, daphne and wild violets, however the rest of the garden is full of Australian natives.

I walked bare-footed down the path my back garden. It felt like I was walking on crushed velvet - the tiny flowers on the tree had covered the ground like a carpet.

This time a different fragrance - its sharper, not as delicate.

There is a very light drizzle. Just enough to make everything feel damp.

The birds are singing their symphony.

A sparrow lands on the brick wall by the back door, and pokes his head in as if to say hello.

A light breeze ripples the water on the lake, while the crisp air of the morning caresses my bare feet.