Pottering
I’ve just come back inside. It is another warm afternoon and after many weeks of neglect I have promised myself that gardening takes first place for the next couple of weeks. I have told the other half that I am having a bee keeping free weekend. I want to spend as much time as I can getting some order in the garden. I’m not looking for picture perfect, that is not something I aspire too. I just want to it to look like it is loved. Plus my gathering of seedlings really need to be growing in the ground not in pots.
It’s Monday. It is warm and I am feeling full of gusto. The bed I work on is suppose to be made up of pink flowers but I have found over the past few years that while I may have plans for certain colour schemes in the garden, the garden frequently has other ideas. The combination of mislabelled plants and self seeders means the hues of pink is dominant but not exclusive. The bed is a collection of a variety of plants and for the most part they have embraced and intertwined with each other to create that tapestry effect that I so love. I see that scabiosa have self seeded from last season along with poppies - I wonder where they have come from. I added some thyme to the bed as a form of bee friendly ground cover, it clearly loves the bed and I enjoy seeing new seedlings popping up through it. Lilly stems are appearing as to are the peonies. Alongside all of this is lavenders, rosemary, hollyhocks and salvias - it is a very cosy bed. I find little shoots of dahlias which were frosted a little by the late frost we had. The frost was the day after labour day, my guide date to putting out the seedlings. I’ve learnt over the years you can not trust nature to do things on a set day.
“The word ‘species’ comes from the Latin species, ‘a seeing’. Maybe we are losing species and languages, our joy, becuase we don’t wish to see what we are doing”
‘Language is Migrant’ via On the necessity of Gardening”
The dogs and I have moved into our summer routines. Habits have changed over the last few days. I come home and have lunch, while Eos heads for the door. She waits until I am ready. For her being outside on a sunny day is a more urgent task than on a rainy day (she is a fair weather dog). As soon as the door opens Atlas bolts out from whatever corner of the house he was hiding and the two of them head off to various corners of the garden as do I. Minutes past and every so often I hear the tinkle of dog collars as one races across the lawn in a certain direction. I kinda forgot about them. We all become absorbed in whatever task we are doing. Occasionally a bird is chased- unseccussfully of course. I finish my gardening and head indoors at which point the game of find the dog begins. Littles is easily located, inside trying to cool down, asleep on the floor in the lounge. But where is Atlas? I call and call nothing which means I need to go hunt him out. I know a few of his secret hiding places and of course he is not in any of them. I continue looking and then he usually just appears at my side as I hunt for him - “Where you looking for me?”
Giveaway Winner - Congrats to Mo. Send me an email with your postal address and I will send out the copy of Bloom magazine.
hmm so lucky to be able to grow peonies!