It is the end of the weekend by now I usually have an idea of what I shall write for the weekly newsletter. There will be something I have seen or read that provides a loose thread to pull, to try to make a cohesive story. These newsletters are a space to write, one for sharing but also one for learning. Learning how to collect thoughts into a sentence, to tell a story. Without a concrete theme, I grab the laptop and sit in the doorway bathed in the late afternoon sun and just let thoughts flow.
I think of the changing of the clocks and of how the light is different. It shines for longer and takes slower to rise. I hear the birds sing their early morning chorus, a sound I love to hear. It is light enough that when we wake in the weekend I can take photos of the newly flowering clematis while I wait for littlest dog who is fast becoming a big dog to finish his early morning troll around the garden.
I attempt to brush sand into the newly cleaned tiles which is part our seating area in the garden. I have added some thyme seeds so that hopefully some will grow in the cracks instead of the weeds that find home here. I sweep and pup finds this entertaining. He latches on to the brush head and makes it impossible to move. Sand puddles in corners. I do the best I can then leave it. Maybe I will have a go later when pup is busy elsewhere. I look at the brush head and realise it needs replacing. A few too many bristles have been removed by pups chewing.
I collect the now emptied green bin for garden waste from the road and then set about chopping back the oregano which has taken over a flower bed. There are a few self seeding parsley, rosemary and some broken looking sages. It has echoes of the herb garden that it was suppose to be. I don’t remember when but oregano took over and it became something else. I cut back the ghost seed heads of last summer and remember the pink flower swaying with bees. This is the only reason I let it stay in its form, the bees love it. u
I take a daily circuit of the garden. It is the time of year when many new things are flowering and I like to wander, mostly with my camera, to snap what takes my eye. I start at the gate and ignore the lavenders that need tidying, the roses that were not pruned and let my eye settles on the newly flowering white irises. I walk across the lawn not sticking to the paths that I wish the dogs would follow when they race around the garden. I spy a newly flowering poppy, and then a ranunculus. I love capturing them. A few daffodils are still flowering but soon the lawn will be bare of them. I can then start to plan the curving bed under the fruit trees. Next season when the daffs flower they will be part of a new space. Pots of plants stand waiting to be planted in anticipation of this new project. My other new project is almost nearly there. The shade cloth is up. There needs to be a matting of some sort to be placed under the chairs to suppress the weeds that are starting to emerge. I hold my nerve with regards to planing out the dahlias remembering the sneaky late frost of last year. I will give it a couple of weekends.
The circuit continues to where I worked in the weekend. The bed I mentioned in last week’s newsletter, my naturally occurring space. I like to admire this tidy bed and the blue bell I find flowering. I wonder if it is to early to start to make lists of things I want to add to the garden next year. The final stop is the lilac. I stop and inhale pleased to see more blooms are coming. It will be here for a little bit longer. I take some for inside. I see the cherry tree is flowering. The garden is all green up and it feels full and lush. Just like I do after my stroll.