I am a tulip devotee. I see them as a reward for getting through winter. They are a celebration life.
In May, the Kentish country lanes are full of froth and fizz. They are overflowing with hawthorn blossom and the cow parsley. It reminds me of filling a champagne flute and seeing if it overflows.
The tulips have delighted me for three, nearly four weeks. This is their final fling!
I can’t paint or draw. Gardening is my way of splashing around with colour, creating new combinations and having a few happy accidents. My media, right now, is tulips.
The birth of the tulips has been laboured and slow this year, but their emergence is a triumph.
I went for total indulgence in the hot spell last week. I reasoned that it was too hot for serious gardening, so I may as well visit other gardens and bask in the tulip displays. So on Friday it was Great Dixter and on Saturday I took the family to Sarah Raven’s Open Garden at Perch Hill….
The title is an homage to one of my favourite children’s books, Quentin Blake’s Cockatoos. Each morning Professor Dupont, a dapper chap, jumps out of bed, takes a shower, cleans his teeth, gets dressed, ties his tie, adjusts his spectacles and goes downstairs. He goes into his conservatory and there are all his cockatoos. He throws wide…