The dahlias have vanished, it feels overnight. Well all except the dahlia tree which is still holding on to it’s tight buds. I can see the white petals forming and hope she flowers before we get another frost. It is a mighty wait. The last of the dahlia plants to stop flowering were a brilliant cascade of pink. It was in full bloom until this week and it is now a mass of stumpy forming seed heads, scattered petals below revealing what it was once was. I shall head out later to tend to them. Chop back some and place markers as to where they grow. Dig up others that shall be moved. Most shall stay, largely in the bed that I am calling my dahlia patch. It wasn’t always that and as I sit and wait for the day to warm I reflect on the many forms it has taken over the time we have lived here.
When I first arrived here and started gardening, the place where the dahlias now lie was a mass of rubbish. It had become a dumping ground of things, mainly carpet which perhaps suggests an attempt at some form of flower bed creation. At one end there were current bushes with others sprinkled around the garden. I moved them together to form a row at the top and a row at the bottom. It gave structure even if I wasn’t sure to what. A large amount of bricks were discovered in our garden clean up so they became borders for beds for me to plant in. Brick paths were laid haphazardly by an amateur brick layer. It looked like a potager when I added marigolds amongst the veggies that I grew. I loved it as first time gardeners do. That sense of achievement at growing a wonky carrot or the delight at an over producing courgette. I can still remember Atlas standing munching on an Airedale head high cauliflower, looking at me as if this was grown just for him.
The ultimate addition was a greenhouse. I loved that greenhouse. It was a kit set which we built in the glow of the early days of home ownership. I can still recall the moan of angst I made when a particularly strong wind crushed it like a small toy. The other half diligently and with heart straightened her up and more tomatoes and cucumbers grew over the years. The addition of air vents lead to the greenhouse standing strong until the poly sheets needed replacing. As they crumbled, my gardening desires moved elsewhere and eventually after standing abandoned for a year too many, she was removed. A new space was made for other things.
At some point I realised that as much as I loved growing veggies and loved the idea of self sufficiency, others did it better and switched from attempting to grow my own veggies to supporting local growers via the farmers market. By now my gardening focus was supporting our honey bees, whose hives were now part of the the garden. The beds stayed much as they did in form but where now filled with flowers. Many flowers. At times it was planted with thought, other times it was just a space to plant something I had brought on whim and wasn’t sure where it fitted in the garden. It became a nursery space of lets see what they do kinda of plants.
Last year, most likely in the winter, thoughts moved to make the space more cohesive. I loved the idea of sitting in the garden, of being surrounded by the flowers and the insects and the life of it all. The brick paths were pulled up. The space laid bare. A blank canvas was then shaped into new beds. A curved path was made in the middle with a large bed on one side, the new dahlias patch on the other. A space to sit under the shade of tree was created and a new view of the garden was made. I wanted artichokes in the garden again so they were duly planted. Things from the former nursery space were moved to new homes, with thought rather than whim. I put what I had in and filled gaps with annuals knowing that time was needed to see how it looked like. To see how it grew. Some corners are too full and will need more space cleared. Others I have gaps I am delighted to fill. The path needs to be made more official as it now is currently filled with weeds and self seeders. The seating space has chairs but needs a touch of formality to make it more inviting than it is. The dahlia patch was a comforting tangle of beauty this year and I will chop back and mark my jewels ready for another season and wonder when the dahlia tree will final reveal herself.