Like with so many spring bulbs, you spend hours watching over them, singing to them, telling them little stories, begging them to open. Then just as your back is turned (you have put the kettle on to boil, or just nipped to the loo), TA DA! The most magnificent flower has sprung open!
It is at the interface between living thing and the outside world where the magic happens.
There was a strange light in the garden at sunrise this morning.
The sky was a moody lavender with clouds of mulberry. There was a ribbon of warmest apricot near the horizon.
As we pass into winter, we have to appreciate the little things. The bright and shiny baubles, the trinkets, the gewgaws. All that glisters. All that twinkles, and reflects the light.
Autumn is frippery and frills. Autumn is gewgaws and jewels, catching the light. It is burnished bronze and polished mahogany. All these riches, if we are minded to see them.
We tend to focus on colour in autumn, but it is also a change in form that I notice. Leaves thin out, filtering sunlight. Each leaf is holding on by a thread. They spin on their stalks, catching the light. It is like the garden is strung with fairy lights.
My vision for my bright border is a firework display of colour, with exploding shapes and textures. But is it still popping by November?
Sissinghurst in October is a gentle place. There is space for quiet contemplation and restoration of the spirits.
Understanding the basics of Sensory Integration can help us plan a garden that can have calming areas, to balance the alerting areas. There are also some tips for calming yourself in a stressful situation, using the principles of Sensory Integration.
Sunlight is transformative. Petals and leaves become translucent and their network of veins are revealed. The fine down on stems and buds are illuminated. Sunlight is a transitory and elusive quality in the garden. Which is perhaps why it is so magical.
Nature has many different solutions to the problem of how to get a flower pollinated. This post explores the diversity of flower forms, with cups, plates, trap-doors, bells, umbels and more!
I just thought I would write a little mini post on the wonderful Erodium manescavii, or Heron’s Bill. At first glance this flower looks very like a Hardy Geranium. But the petals are not all the same. Two of them have stained-glass window markings. They are like spidery ink across white paper. The other three petals just…