Saturday & Sunday

Mornings of cold feet

I feel the cold seep under my bare feet. It creeps up my legs as I stand at the front door. It’s Saturday morning, early. I’ve let the dogs out for their first fossick of the day. It is colder than I expected. The morning air hints at a frost somewhere. Here it rained overnight. I look up and the sky hints at sunrise,  showing the softest of grey with a hue of gold starting to creep in. I watch the dogs snuffle about, picking up messages from those who adventured into the garden overnight.. As I stand, ignoring the cold, I listen. The birds are singing. It’s been a while since I have heard a dawn chorus. It is quiet a joyful sound on such a cold morning. The song hints and makes promises for the day that stretches out before me. I think to myself if nothing else happens this weekend I have this moment. A secret moment, that the dogs and I (and now you) know of. As I write the memory of this sound still lingers. I call the dogs and we head inside to the warmth of the house. To books and tea and blankets. We just need a bit longer to wake up fully and after all it is the weekend.

Later I garden. Pruning back current bushes. It creates a clearing in a part of the garden that I have my eye on making some changes to. The foundations of this space were created when we first moved in and veggie growing was more  of our focus. Times have changed and I want to use this space for other things. More bee hives perhaps or a work from home space. Ideas float about. I love the image of a chair in the garden space as seen in the beautiful book ‘The Garden’ by Sian Davey . As I work I have my ear tuned for courier. Despite it being winter I am collecting plants for spring planting. This delivery consists of asters, catnip and a new anemone which is bright pink and ruffled. Bee friendly treasures perhaps for the new space I am creating. I’ve ordered ranunculus because they are my pre roses to photograph in late spring.  Inspired by a recent Instagram post from Susie Ripley I will attempt to grow  from seed Echnicahea Simulata and Veronicastrum. Two things that will require patience and time. I add a delicious poppy ‘Puple Peony’ and Miss Jeykll Rose Nigella to my order. All little wishes for the garden.

Sunday rolls around and while it later than yesterday I am once again standing with bare feet on the front step. Senior Airedale is out assessing the land. The littler dog is smartly inside embracing the warmth of a Sunday morning. No doubt curled up like a cat. For a reasonable sized dog she can make herself very small. It is a different day to yesterday. I hear the bird song again. The sound of the start of the day. It however feels crisper than yesterday. It is definitely colder with a wisp of mist sitting over the valley. This mist suggests that it will be a different day to yesterday. A colder day. I watch a Piwakawaka flit and rest on the peach tree. Flashes of white from its fan tail drawing my eye. They visit the garden when it is cold inland. I wonder if the wax eyes will soon appear. Everything is still and flat with a vacant grey seeming to surround everything.  As a result the colours of the garden feel  muted,  even the greens that still remain . The only exception is the occasionally  pop of colour. The crab apples not yet eaten by birds. The still flowering chrysanthemums. The odd rose. Senior Airedale slops indoors, pushing past me, another sign it is too cold. I turn  too and head indoors, like him, seek warmth.