Keats’ ‘gathering swallows twittering in the skies‘ have gone and last week I heard the plaintive call of a chiff chaff, a sign that other migrants are on their way back south, to warmer climes. We’re left alone to contemplate with the sad autumnal song of ‘the redbreast whistling from a garden croft’. We feel we’ve been watching summer’s ‘soft dying day‘. Continue reading “Michaelmas – angels unawares”
The landscape has turned from green to the gold of harvest and ‘barbarous in beauty’ reveals glories unnoticed before, bringing forth one man’s rapturous response. Continue reading “Harvest Rapture”
The late summer sunshine, with its ‘gold complexion’ un-dimmed, is causing my front garden to positively ‘sizzle’ in a blaze of glory just now. Come and see.
Continue reading “A Blaze of Glory”
What does it take to be an adventurous gardener? Now we have moved into the long warm days of high-summer my cottage borders are a riot of vibrant colour. Am I an adventurous gardener? I’m certainly breaking some accepted garden rules ! I can think of one person who might have approved but also of another who might not ! Continue reading “An Adventurous Gardener”
The mood has changed and things have moved on. Spring, which has been ‘all in a rush with richness‘ has now calmed down and settled into the warmth of the ‘lazy days’ of summer. Summer verdure is everywhere—a glorious season of lush growth, beautiful flowers and fruitfulness. Distant views are now masked by the more restrained greens of summer, giving us a feeling of being comfortably embraced by foliage. We’re closed-in with a sense of security and well-being as we enter these cool leafy summer lanes. Continue reading “Leafy Summer Lanes”
Despite the efforts of the R.H.S. Chelsea Flower Show organizers to encourage innovation and modern garden designs, the public still seem to vote for traditional gardens. This year Chris Beardshaw again won the popular vote for Best-in-Show with his cottage-style planting. I’m totally in agreement with the public here.
Hearing the first cuckoo in spring, is a special moment that has captured the imagination of writers, poets and musicians over the centuries. But for how much longer? Is it ‘last call’ for these spring visitors?