The garden today

Although I know I have done things this year in the garden – otherwise how would there be potatoes coming through in the vegetable bed? – it doesn’t feel like it because of the wretched weather. I’ve spent so little time in the garden that it was quite a shock to realise that forget-me-nots were blooming and alliums were pushing through. The flower beds are now covered in greenery. Some of that greenery might not be quite what I’d intended. It’s possible that I’ll regret letting wild garlic and columbines take over – and I shall certainly keep the lemon balm under control – but I like the haphazard planting. And so does an orange-tip butterfly and a hedgehog, so that’s all fine.

Blackbird nest

Last spring we kept disturbing a blackbird in the wood store behind the garage; I wondered if it was nesting there but didn’t investigate for fear of disturbing it. We use the wood-burner so infrequently that it was only this morning that I uncovered the nest. 

It’s beautifully constructed and I was very glad to see that the blackbird had found a use for sycamore seeds! Also noticeable were the bits of string and a piece of black plastic tie. I’ll put it back in the wood pile later.

The garden today

From the window, the garden just looks bare, mossy and muddy (particularly after the replacing of the vegetable bed timbers). Today, however, I went outside and took a closer look and discovered dabs of colour and signs of life. I also planted a small virburnum juddii in the “difficult” spot in the front garden. Two casualties so far; I hope this one thrives.

On having a garden

Today I ate the last apple, chopped up on my muesli. A little dry and less tasty than a fresh apple – but mine own. Yesterday we had oven chips made with this year’s Désirée potatoes. I defrost small bowlfuls of red- and whitecurrants to add to cereal and yoghurt. Potato and leek soup is a winter staple.

All from the garden. This is certainly not going to keep the wolf from the door, I hate to think of the monetary cost per mouthful, and a half-shrivelled apple really can’t compete with the tangerines and lychees that I filled the fruit bowl with over Christmas – never mind our daily grape and banana habit. Nevertheless there’s some unjustified satisfaction in it. It’s the interaction, the engagement with the garden that is important. It’s been so wet recently that the garden had become a reproach, another thing to deal with, the spur to thoughts of “such-and-such needs doing”, “I must do something about something” – a burden.

And yesterday it was dry so I put on my gardening clothes over my everyday clothes and went out, with half-frozen fingers, to tidy up a bit and to scrub the slippery deposit off the path. Suddenly the garden was no longer beyond the patio window, a two-dimensional reproach of my inaction and inertia, but a whole new world. It was like stepping through the back of the wardrobe; almost immediately my mood shifted and I saw things differently. Tidying up was no longer a chore but an automatic action – just like pausing frequently to see what was poking up through the fallen leaves.

Magenta-coloured cyclamen are flowering in the front flower bed, but it is still too windy to take a sharp photo of them.

Autumn leaves

No photograph can capture the in-the-moment pleasure of seeing sunlight on autumn leaves – but it can remind you of it.

”In light upon the figured leaf”

The garden

Another pre-holiday tidy-up – which only reminded me of what a constant work-in-progress one’s garden is. The lawn is looking shorter, neater and hence shell-shocked, and the netting is off the plum and blackberries . . . but the conifers are looking tatty and the hedge needs cutting. There are plenty of apples and pears . . . but many of them are already damaged by squirrels and magpies. I have issued scrumping rights to neighbours, so I don’t know what kind of harvest I shall return to.

As usual, the real pleasure is in the details: a little clump of cyclamen huddling together, sunshine on the sedums. How I enjoy having a garden!

The garden today

From L to R: the plum tree beneath its bridal veil, the partly shorn long grass, and the rudbeckia which is thriving – and visible – now that the conifer is no more.

Echinops

A small copper on the echinops this morning.

Poppies and teazles

The poppies amongst the leek seedlings (I know, I know) are momentarily magnificent, and compost bin corner is looking good.

Hydrangea

The hidden hydrangea has a blue tinge this year. I have no idea why: I’ve neglected it as usual.