Sunshine, flowers

and the return of freckles

I wake to hear the sound of bird song. I love this lovely early morning chatter of birds waking, stretching and sharing their plans for the day. It is a sound that gives me comfort. Later as I hang out the washing it feels very warm on this first day of September. The memory of the last few evenings drifts in to my mind as I peg out socks. Evenings where we sat outside with friends and family having drinks until it grew dark, making promises for what kind of summer it is going to be and what we are going to do with. Over the weekend I fish out my sundress and sandals to wear, a welcome change from sweaters and socks. It all feels delightful and it also feels a little bit unnerving.

Part of me knows it is too warm. The odd day of warm here and there is what I expect of Spring. It likes to tease this season. The weather forecast has us pegged for three to four days of sun with temperatures in the late tens. Over the course of these days I watch as the various fruit trees. The pears, the peach, the crab apple, spin and open buds of flowers and fresh green leaves. They like me, are adorning their new season clothes. A Kererū takes up residence on a newly blossoimng tree. It nibbles away at the tender leaves and I only notice it when it files away. The wooshing of their wings a sound so familiar.

I spend Saturday in the garden. The calendar says it is a plant day and I do the best that I can to get what I want planted (there is still a lot to do). Around the bee hives I work early in the morning before the sun fully hits them. Before I and bees get caught up in each others traffic. I do have one persistent bee who constantly tells me to bog off. I plant out lavenders and cat mints. Move garlic bulbs that I had planted years ago which I have naturalised. I leave it to flower which the bees love. I add more giant yellow scabiosa that grow tall and sways so beautifully in the summer. I know the bees love this. The odd fox glove that has self seeded somewhere which will make like hard, I move so it can enjoy the sun.

I return after lunch and start on the first of the beds that is part of my new garden design. I move a Karl Foerster grass and plant out the white tree dahlia I brought last season, spying new growth which is reassuring. I add a sprinkle of lavenders, a few poppies, a scabiosa. I leave space for the white lavender I love so much and need to get more of. There is a sprinkle of yellow in this bed, some pops of colour in the form of drum stick alliums and then a background of white. Hopefully it melds together. I just need to leave it be. In another bed that surrounds a cabbage tree I mass plant thyme which will tolerate the dry soil. I look forward to humming bees and having the scent of thyme waft up as you walk past.

As I garden away I weed. I weed in September weeds that I feel I don’t normally tend to until later in the season. The bind wind is popping up. It’s vine curving like a snake out of the soil. I hunt and hunt for the roots. Pulling what I can knowing I never will get it all. I see a queen wasp. Again something that should come later in the season. All signs that we are racing ahead too soon. I clock back to the summer before last which was dry and reflect on the things that I learnt. The value of mulch to keep any moisture in the the soil. The importance of watering the dahlias to get them going. The understanding that what will flower may be a shorter flowering than normal. That somethings will thrive like the echincea others won’t. It’s a reminder to embrace and enjoy the moment.