The bright border is at its midsummer zenith!
It is one of my favourite sensory pleasures to hold the impossibly soft and tender rose in one hand and snip its bristly stem with the other. The petals are softer than anything I know: peach fuzz, babies’ bottoms, duck down: they are nothing to this rose. The spent flower fits perfectly into my hand. Its petals may suddenly let out a silent ‘oh!‘, let go of their calyx all at once. They drop into my waiting bucket, with a flurry of petal confetti. and glorious rose perfume.
Plants, like people, have an inner light. When the sun shines on them, they glow.
The best buds of all are the oriental poppies. They wear thick woollen tights, but silk knickers beneath. This one is about to burst its breeches.
After five minutes in the garden I have re-charged and re-energised. There is so much to be grateful for. So many little miracles unfolding before me. Energy bursting upwards and outwards, exploding out of buds. Light shining out of stems and leaves. An infinite variety of shapes and textures.
Like with life, the garden is always in a state of flux. Nothing stays the same for long. There is always something new, always change.
Daffodils can be a bit shouty; a bit full-on; a bit draining. This post gives space to the subtle ones.
You can stick almost anything in the ground right now and it will start sprouting leaves. March is the month of wonders.
I love watching any type of bee, but bumblebees are especially endearing. Especially when they dive nose-first into a flower and tip up their furry bums.
On a weekend, I like to get up before the rest of the family. I put on my dressing gown and slippers, make myself a cup of tea, slip on my wellies, and take a little walk around the garden.
Edging the lawn is not my favourite garden job. I don’t like anything that involves keeping to a straight line. I am a wobbly sort of gardener.
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.