These are the last of my Kingsbrae photos. I always love a heath garden and I wonder if it isn't my ancestral memories of moors. Do these memories come coded in our DNA? I also love the waterlilies in a Rodin type of way, but it is the expanses of heath and heathers that stir me. Here in the Maritimes hills of blueberries move me in a similar kind of way. I suppose the converse is that I am not a forest person.
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