creating something out of a lot of little nothings
The mind I love must have wild places, a tangled orchard where dark damsons drop in the heavy grass, an overgrown little wood ... a pool that nobody's fathomed the depth of, and paths threaded with flowers planted by the mind. ~ Katherine Mansfield
Friday, 7 October 2011
The Last Rose of Summer
In the 70's this rose was all the rage because of its dual colour - it starts off lemon and gradually turns pink then dark crimson as it gets older. But I'm blowed if I can remember its name. It is still pushing out buds, but nearly all the leaves have dropped off, and it gets blackspot. I don't get on very well with roses in my garden, the soil is too light I think - but I haven't the heart to dig it out as it keeps flowering against the odds.
I have no idea what this plant is either, I use it in my container planting, where it flowers all summer. I have potted it up in the hope that it will overwinter in the greenhouse. The flowers open and close with the sun and it trails over the edge of the container looking really pretty (purple flowers are a favourite). Could be some variety of Aubretia maybe - whatever it is, I hope it survives, to be replanted next year.
Whilst I was working in the garden yesterday this tree kept appearing in the corner of my eye - it is a few gardens away and dominates the skyline - a huge Sycamore where thousands of Starlings have roosted some years when huge flocks performed their acrobatic dances in the back field. I haven't seen that happen for a number of years now but the tree stands waiting for them to come back and offer them shelter.