At this time of year, I become intensely aware of light. I drive to work as the sun is rising, and I drive home as it is setting. Fortunately for me I drive in the right direction to enjoy the splendour, driving eastish in the morning and westish in the evening. Sunrise and sunset can…
If you suffer from mid-winter blues, I would encourage you to plant bulbs next autumn. One January or February morning, you will see tiny green shoots, and within a week or two, a little paintbrush smudge of flower. A few days later, as if the flower were spring-loaded, petals will have burst out in all directions, and this gorgeous little warrior will be standing proud.
These are the three flowers that have given me most delight in the garden this week. Each is perfectly itself. Each occupies its space. Each has its own dignity.
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.
You can see the intricacy of the markings. They remind me of a school chromatography experiment when we made an ink spot on blotting paper and then dipped it in water. The pigments in the ink slowly separated and spread out over the blotting paper.
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!
“what incomparable lavishness they give…There is nothing scrimpy or stingy about them. They have a generosity which is desirable in plants as in people.” Vita Sackville-West, on old roses June is my favourite month. It feels like summer. The colours in the hedgerows have undergone a subtle shift from the lime-green of early spring, to…