I don’t think of myself as a particularly girly girl, and throughout my life I have almost avoided pink. Yet when I look around my rose garden, I see pink everywhere. And yes, I am tickled pink.
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.
Before I get carried away with the peonies, I think I should just pause to appreciate the lupins. This is ‘Thunderclouds’, grown from seed last year, and now flowering prodigiously. I’ve never noticed before the wispy calyx that nestles the newly-opened flowers. It is like a fur stole, soon to be carelessly dropped as the…