They bloom in January – Winter Jasmine. Makes me think of a Japanese painting.
They blanket the shaded areas; the floor of the woods glows with them.
A walk in a woody area last week saw the first snowdrops peaking out from last year’s leaves.
They look like they’re huddling together for warmth.
From the dregs of last year’s detritus, from decay, comes beautiful new life to warm a cold day.
Lovely, simple, beauty – Christmas Roses in February.
I love these.
I love the juxtaposition of last year’s blossoms and this year’s buds.
I cannot fully express how much joy these sweet things bring me.
Life in last year`s leaves.
About two hours later, I went out to my garden and this is what greeted me.
It glows against its dark green starting in February.
I love these. And they’re all over my garden.
The Tulip seems to float in a sea of Forget-Me-Nots.
Daffodil and a purple Parrot Tulip.
Not sure what type. There are about 500 different kinds.
Daffydowndilly
More Kamikazi Daffs. I have come to look forward to them.
I have so enjoyed these Daffs by the pond. Their reflections have been lovely fodder for photos.
Jonquils, Bluebells and Forget-Me-Nots
The blossoms of a Cherry Tree in May are touching and delicate. This photo, taken on the day of my civil wedding, always fills me with a warm glow.
The blossoms are delicate, like silk.
You can barely see the pink in this Cherry.
I call this ‘Powerfully Pink’ because the leaves are almost pink, too on this Japanese Cherry.
Wild Cherry. It was a sweetly scented walk.
Another favorite of mine, Borage blooms between May and July.
Come fall, these will be lovely red plums.
Marsh Marigolds by the side of a pond.
I never knew they came in red until this little Strawberry appeared in my garden the first year.
Next, Periwinkle, hiding amid the Ivy.
These two bees collect the pollen that is necessary to their lives and to ours as bees fulfill the act of cross-pollination necessary for us to have our own food in many cases.
Crane’s Bill and grasses – this was the first picture I thought of when I sat down to think about warmth. They only bloom between June and August and this patch never ceases to make me stop on the lane.
They tower above me, prickly and delicate.
I think it’s Rudbeckia Laciniata, but I’m really not sure. Either way, the cheerful yellow faces reaching for the sun bring a smile to my face every time.
As we wander the grounds, the breeze jostles the delicate Lavender spikes into the Wheat (I think it’s Wheat) freeing the soothing scent that lifts spirits and calms them at the same time.
As I walked by the field, a glimpse of red caught my eye. When I got closer, I realised that a tiny glade of Mayweed and Poppies sat in the middle of the Broad Beans.
The Mayweed seems to float; their stems so fragile as to be incapable of holding up the blossoms.
It blooms in July; Great Willowherb seems to glow with colour, but in this moment at the end of a day, it truly seems to create its own light.
Summer`s wild rose.
White roses represent purity and innocence; this rose, directly after a rain seems to epitomise that.
Not only the angle of the shot, but the deep structural angularity of the rose pull you in.
Taken through my kitchen window, this Honeysuckle, blooming between June and August, is one of my favorite warm summer shots.
A Bunch of Ragwort.
Flowering between July and September, the colour of Rosebay Willowherb warms me to my core. Every year, it delights and amazes me.
Great Willowherb and Wheat. I think it’s wheat. What do I know.
Common Ragwort. Wonderful, natural bouquets – and very poisonous from what I hear.
A Mass of Willowherb.
A Ton of Yarrow (and maybe some Queen Anne’s Lace).
Ragwort, Daisies and Yarrow.
Cowberry and I Wish I Knew. I really do. I can’t find the white bush in my book anywhere.
I’m pretty sure this is Cowberry, but I could be very wrong.
I think this is Dame’s Violet. Please correct me if I’m wrong.
One of my greatest summer delights is the Foxglove that grows in such profusion here between June and September. This one was shot through my other kitchen window.
Holly flowers glow against the dark, gloss of spiky leaves. They’ll be pretty come Christmas, too.
Beautiful, vibrant, warming.
Desert Flowers
The Grand Canyon thrives after a particularly rainy summer.
Rabbit Brush and Century Cactus
Red Campion and what may be some kind of Saxifrage – Red Campion is one of the first and longest lasting of the wildflowers, blooming from March to October. As soon as I see its bright face, I know that warm days will follow soon.
Mushrooms blend with dead leaves close to mid-winter.
Mushrooms blend with dead leaves close to mid-winter.
A Canuck's Eye View 
This is an excellent photo essay. I don’t know where you are and what grows in your area but do you have rose hips and other berries for fall and winter? We have some witch hazel up in the dunes that blooms in January and there are so many berry bushes especially in the low places.
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Thank you so much. Yes, I do have rosehips, but no photos I was happy to share. Perhaps I will add to the page this year. The berries here grow in such profusion, it’s quite stunning to this Canuck. I’ve never seen anything like it and wouldn’t know how to identify most of them. My trusty wildflower book comes in handy, I must say!
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If those are photos from spring 2015, I am in awe. Spring arrived here with wind, cold, light snow, and we still have feet of snow on the ground. i want to come live where you are. 🙂
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No, those are from last spring. That said, we have no snow at this point; although, like most places we had more this year than in many years. I’ve been watching the weather over the pond – if you’re anywhere near the Canadian maritime provinces, you’ve had about as many tons as they have! Live spring vicariously through my photos.
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