garden photography – Ann Mackay: Inspired by Nature

A Play of Light

February 1, 2026January 31, 2026 Ann Mackay10 Comments

NB: A note for WordPress Reader users – you need to click on the title of the post again to come out of the reader and go to the post itself. This allows you to see the whole of the top photograph. (Otherwise you may see just a tiny section!)

There can be no photography without light, but it offers more to experiment with than just that basic need. One of my favourite qualities to play with is translucence. Many flowers and leaves will allow light to pass through them and this can lead to some attractive images.

Despite their apparent density, the purplish-red leaves of the eucomis (pineapple lily) above were able to let light filter through. By luck, I happened to see them at a time when the sun was low-angled but still very strong. The bright light was able to penetrate the leaves, showing a range of reds and yellows that would not have been visible by normal reflected light. I have cropped the image tightly on the leaves to make the colours appear more flame-like.

pink hollyhock flower against a blue sky

In my garden, hollyhocks are probably the flowers with the most translucent petals. These petals are especially thin, like fine coloured tissue, and allow light to pass through very easily. The flower above was one of the last on the plant, so by that time the stems were tall and reaching skyward, making it easy to position the camera where the semi-transparency of the flower would emphasise its airy floatiness.

The dahlia, by contrast, was in a shady position, with sunlight reaching the top petals of the flower. Because this was not in my own garden, I was limited in where I could stand. It was disappointing not to be able to get the camera into a position where more of the petals would be lit up, so I’ve cropped the photo to give the upper part of the flower more importance.

My garden doesn’t have a lot of colourful leaves in autumn, but our wisteria can turn a lovely shade of gold when the leaves are backlit by the afternoon sun. These leaves should really have been pruned off the climber in July, but I’m glad I left them because they were ideally placed to make a vivid image. The shadows that you see are from foliage on the far side of the leaves blocking the light. I reckon they add a lot to the photograph, which would have been much less interesting without them.

The last image (of autumn crab apple leaves) makes the same use of shadows. Here the leaves and stems on the right-hand side block the backlighting of the central leaf, adding the focal point of dark shadows on the glowing red.

Playing with translucence is a satisfying way to make photographs more vibrant and richly-coloured. It just needs the cooperation of the sun. There’s not much sunshine around at the moment, but spring will bring more opportunities to experiment with backlighting. Roll on spring!

Winter Supporting Cast

January 25, 2026January 23, 2026 Ann Mackay12 Comments

When frost is here, the stars of the garden are the seed heads. Their shapes become sculptural and exciting as they are made sparkly with frozen icy crystals. They’re the first thing I look for in winter photography, and a very satisfying subject for an appealing image.

But there aren’t a huge number of seed heads, and, of course, they are vastly outnumbered by the remaining leaves. Fortunately these leaves can often be very attractive with a sprinkling of frost and give their own photographic possibilities.

A frosted geranium leaf — Frost accentuates the edges of a geranium leaf.

The leaf in the top photo is a Japanese anemone. These can take on interesting curvy shapes as they dry out and the brown colouring adds a bit of extra interest. There are usually lots of these leaves in the garden, but this year I have noticed that there are fewer. Perhaps the increasingly hot and dry summers have made these anemone clumps less inclined to spread and be thuggish. Although they can make themselves a nuisance, I will be sad if I lose the pretty show of flowers that they give in late summer and early autumn. It seems that climate change may be changing the nature of my garden.

The picture immediately above shows a hardy geranium. These are plants that are good-looking in both leaf and flower, so I’ve been happy to find space for several of these in the garden. The way the frost outlines the deeply indented edges of the leaves emphasises their shape and creates an image that is both pleasing to see and inviting to photograph.

Frosted fennel leaves — Fennel leaves are gracefully lacy under a heavy coating of frost.

While the first two photographs were taken in this winter’s light frosts, the remaining two were taken in years when the frost was much heavier. A dense coating of frost crystals has given the feathery foliage of a bronze fennel the appearance of lace. (Normally the fennel leaves would be gone by the time there was much frost, but that year the frost arrived earlier.)

Below, frost on the leaves of Euphorbia mellifera will quickly melt in the strong sunshine of a bright winter morning. Despite looking more robust than the delicate fennel leaves, this euphorbia is less hardy and would probably be best given winter protection in areas colder than ours. Luckily for many of our plants, we don’t usually get very cold temperatures for long. As a gardener, I have reason to be very grateful that this winter has been fairly mild so far, even if that means fewer opportunities for winter photography. ❄

Frosted leaves of Euphorbia mellifera — Frost on the leaves of Euphorbia mellifera will soon melt in the sunshine.

Happy New Year!

December 28, 2025December 23, 2025 Ann Mackay17 Comments

January is the time when it gets cold here. The temperature drops around the time of the New Year and we may get frosts. That’s a good time for me to get out in the garden with my camera, especially if there’s a bit of sunshine to add sparkle to those frozen crystals.

There can be a certain freshness to these days…times when the sun shines and it is cold, clear, and bright. It’s the time when the year does feel new and ready for plans for the spring and summer to come. (Gardeners are always looking ahead.) It’s a time for hope and possibilities, and I hope that whatever you plan for the coming year will bring good results. I wish you a very happy New Year!

Merry Christmas Wishes

December 21, 2025December 18, 2025 Ann Mackay17 Comments

It feels as if Christmas has sneaked up on me quietly this year. That’s partly because the unusually mild weather has kept me busy in the garden, where it still feels like late autumn rather than the early days of winter. It’s easy to lose track of ‘calendar time’ when you’re immersed in the rhythms of the natural world.

But here it is, suddenly, Christmas in all its twinkling lights and glitzy decorations (which, by being not much of a shopper, I have largely missed ’til now). Our Christmases here are peaceful and easygoing – we’ve always taken a no-stress approach to this time of year. I hope that Christmas is a relaxed and happy time for you too and that, however you choose to spend it, it’s a time of good cheer and contentment. Merry Christmas! 🎄

Varied Variegations

December 7, 2025December 6, 2025 Ann Mackay4 Comments

Variegated leaves of Arum italicum 'Pictum'

At a time when there are fewer flowers around, you notice the leaves more. Coloured or variegated leaves can give longer-lasting interest to the garden than the shorter lives of most flowers. The occasional plant with variegated leaves can be a particularly striking and effective way to liven up an area of plain green foliage.

In my own garden, I have the silver and green variegated leaves of a brunnera alongside the green of a fern and some hellebores. Further along the same border is a pulmonaria, whose slightly more subtle markings echo the brunnera’s colouring without competing for attention. In summer, a climbing hydrangea brings its lacy white flowers to the mix to further enliven this quiet green corner of our garden. (You can see the brunnera and pulmonaria in previous posts.)

The two sets of variegated leaves here (photographed at Fullers Mill Garden) are very different to each other: one smooth and slightly shiny, the other deeply indented with many sharp-looking prickles. The plant in the top photo is Arum italicum (Italian arum), with very attractive markings of the palest creamy yellow. Below, you can see the spiny leaves of a Galactites (milk thistle), whose purple or white flowers will be a magnet for pollinators in summer.

I could be tempted by either of these plants, although I find that the plain green Arum maculatum that is native in the UK can be a terrible nuisance. It gets everywhere if it gets the slightest chance! So perhaps this arum would get out of hand too. The milk thistle might be a safer bet. It’s an annual or biennial, and, although it will self-seed in good conditions, it is easier to pull out. The only problem might be that I would need some robust gloves to protect my hands from all those spines! Seeing these two plants has made me feel that I should see if there’s room for one or two more variegated plants in my own garden.

Green prickly leaves with white variegation

After the Flowers…

November 23, 2025November 22, 2025 Ann Mackay12 Comments

After the flowers have gone, then come a variety of interesting seed heads. Some are familiar and I come across them every year. Others are less common, like the liquorice plant (Glycyrrhiza) above, photographed on a recent visit to Fullers Mill.

Liquorice is a plant I’d never seen before and the spiky seed heads were what drew my attention. They would be lovely coated with tiny frost crystals, like little Christmas decorations. I didn’t touch one, but they look as if the tips of their individual pods could be sharp…not the most friendly thing to brush up against!

cardoon seed heads — Cardoon seed heads are releasing the first of their hairy seeds.

The seed heads of the cardoons (Cynara cardunculus), shown above, would be much nicer to get close to. These, however, were too tall for me to get near enough to reach the fluffy seeds. I would have liked to have been able to touch the hairs on the seeds, just to see if they’re as soft as they look. The first seeds were already making their escape last month, so I think that recent wind and rain will by now have carried many of them away.

Hairy seed heads are produced by other plants too, like the silvery plumes of Clematis tangutica (below, left). This plant was photographed at the end of summer and the single ‘tails’ attached to each individual seed were still smooth and shiny. Later, those tails become more feathery as they develop and the individual hairs on them grow and open out. That helps the attached seed to blow away in the wind. (It’s in a garden I visited, so I haven’t seen it recently, but I should think that those seed heads are very fluffy indeed by now, or perhaps have dispersed or become bedraggled in the autumn rain.)

Left: A clematis flower and seed head
Right: Catananche seed heads — Left: A seed head of Clematis tangutica gleams in the sun.
Right: Catananche seed heads have a subtle shine.

Another seed head with a slight shine is the Catananche caerulea (Cupid’s dart), shown above, on the right. The seeds are light and papery, clustered in airy heads that have a silvery look on a sunny day. This one is in my own garden and I love it for its long-lasting good looks, both in flower and seed.

Wild carrot (Daucus carota ‘Dara’) also grows in my garden. It’s allowed to seed itself around so that I have plenty of the nest-like seed heads to photograph. I’m having to be a bit stricter with it these days, because it can get everywhere. Now I just sprinkle the seeds in areas where there’s a bit of room for its waywardness. The lacy flower heads of wild carrot are pretty, but to my mind, this plant is at its best when in bud and later, when the seed heads appear. Both stages display the intricate architecture and grace of the plant at its most beautiful. When possible, I try to keep the seed heads, so that they (and the seed heads of other plants) will be here when the frost comes…not long to wait now!

Daucus carota (wild carrot) seed head — Tiny spiky seeds of wild carrot curve inward on a seed head that develops a nest-like appearance.

Just in Time!

November 16, 2025November 15, 2025 Ann Mackay8 Comments

On my visits to Fullers Mill Garden, I’d noticed a large Liquidambar (sweet gum tree). I’d hoped that I would get the chance to see its autumn leaves before the garden closed for the winter. As it turned out, my last visit of the year was about a fortnight before the end of the season and I was lucky enough to see the first of the Liquidambar leaves turn colour.

Although most of the leaves were still green on my last visit, there were those that created a beautiful display of red, orange and yellow. Strikingly, it also had leaves that were a dark purple. The garden closed near the end of October, so it was a bit early for the tree to produce its best display. I’m sure it will be magnificent around now!

The reddest leaves were on a different tree. This was a very much smaller Liquidambar, which I might have mistaken for a maple if I hadn’t noticed the distinctive spiky seed pods. As you can see in the photo below, this youngster was way ahead of the large tree in the colour-change process.

Most autumn leaves around here are yellow. We don’t see many that are red, so the Liquidambar trees in Fullers Mill Garden are a sight to enjoy. In future, I’ll make sure to visit the garden on the very last day that I can before it closes, in the hope of seeing these lovely trees at their most spectacular.

Liquidambar seed pods and leaves in autumn

Buzzy Sunday

July 6, 2025July 6, 2025 Ann Mackay17 Comments

Buff-tailed bumblebee (Bombus terrestris) on catnip (Nepeta) flowers.

You may have noticed that my usual weekly post arrived on Friday instead of today – if you missed it, it’s here. (I messed up and published instead of scheduling. Somehow I got distracted because at the same time I was trying to connect my social media accounts to my blog posting. Oops!)

Anyway, here’s a lovely little bumblebee to let you know what’s going on. Hopefully I’ll be back to normal next Sunday! And there’s a little bit of good news – my garden is buzzing with more bees than last summer, probably because of the warmer weather. 🐝

A Liminal Time

March 2, 2025March 1, 2025 Ann Mackay11 Comments

Frosted seedhead of wild carrot (Daucus carota)

For the last week or two it has felt as if winter is ending, but spring is not quite here. This is a time of transition, and of hope inspired by the resurgence of nature. In fact, March 1st is the start of meteorological spring in the northern hemisphere, so technically, spring is here. (Unless you go by the astronomical definition, which says that spring starts at the Vernal Equinox, around March 20th.)

As far as our garden here is concerned, spring is just starting to show the first signs, but the cold of winter isn’t far behind us. There are still frosts on some mornings; enough to coat the grass but nothing as spectacular as the seed heads here. (These wild carrot seed heads were photographed back in January, when we had several days of heavy frost.) It may be tempting a chilly fate to say that winter is definitely over, but it feels like it is.

Frosted honesty (Lunaria annua) seed head lying on frosted grass — An honesty (Lunaria annua) seed head was caught in one of the last frosts of the year.

So winter appears to be gone…but spring isn’t entirely here. We’re at a threshold, where the season is neither one thing, nor yet the other. I think of it as ‘pre-spring’. It’s a short time when the approach of spring is eagerly looked for and plans made to welcome both new growth and new life.

Being poised on the brink of spring is an exciting time for me, and other gardeners too I’m sure. Everything starts to get busy now; the gardening year takes on a new urgency as we try to keep up with the rush of returning life that spring brings with it. And now it is time for this blog to put the frosty photographs away…I hope!🌱

Thawing…for now!

February 9, 2025February 7, 2025 Ann Mackay15 Comments

We still have some below-zero nights forecast, but it feels as if the worst of the cold is over. Of course, that feeling may turn out to be entirely wrong, because there’s still plenty of time left for more wintry weather. Despite that, the sight of the early daffodil leaves poking up through the soil and the first hellebore flowers makes it feel like spring isn’t so far away.

Thawing frost created several opportunities in the past few weeks for me to get busy with my camera. The tiny meltwater droplets looked especially clear and they glittered where the sun struck them. Other drops, in dark corners where the defrost was slower, were still half-frozen.

clear drops of thawing frost — Sunshine brings out the sparkle on the drops of melted frost on Euphorbia mellifera leaves and the seed heads of a Miscanthus grass.

Thinking about that clarity in the drops of melting frost made me wonder if they were purer than ordinary raindrops. After all, raindrops pass through the atmosphere, collecting any pollutants along the way, whereas frost is formed from condensed water vapour. So, like a distilled liquid, they should be free of impurities…well, that’s my theory, anyway! In any case, I enjoy seeing the plants here all decked out in these sparkling little beads.

I am very much looking forward to spring; now I’m longing to see new growth and feel the sun warm the air. At the same time, I realise that I should take care to notice winter’s small details and the way that the natural world changes through this period of cold weather. Soon enough, the changes will be those of approaching spring…🌱