Forgive me if, in friendship’s way,
I offer thee a wreath of May....
Nourished by the dews of heaven....
So I have Ivy placed between,
To prove that worth is ever green.
The little blue Forget-me-not...
Spring’s messenger in every spot,
Smiling on all—"Remember me!"
~John Clare, "To E.L.E. on May Morning," May 1st 1830
old fashioned pinks
Sometimes you just have to stop and wonder at the beauty of it all …To listen to the blackbird singing outside your window …Sometimes everything just falls into place …Sometimes all the hard work is worth it …
phlox – clouds of perfume
The gardening year moves on … things change from day to day … today it is blowy, gusty … the tall plants are swaying in fear of snapping off. The colours are more gentle now … pale blossom … soft lilac, lavenders and blues … the swinging bells of the columbine … from deepest purple to palest pink.
aquiligia, columbine or grannys bonnet
No earth to be seen … rain for the last few days has made the garden flourish … a sun-filled morning brings everything to life once more. A sparrowhawk swoops down to the bush where a gang of sparrows are preening in the shelter of its branches … I see its wings spread … did it catch one … I know they have to eat too … but still. The clouds darken and are blown swiftly away by the strong winds … hiding the sun for a moment. Where has the warmth gone. A friend rings … I have found a new plant nursery she says … shall we go on a magical mystery tour … of course, I don’t hesitate … what time I say.
lilac and ceanothus
We visit the new nursery … plants are bought … trollies loaded. They supply free tea, coffee and biscuits … worth a return visit I think.
I shouldn’t be here waxing lyrically … I should be working … but what the heck … mornings like this shouldn’t be spent with duster and vacuum cleaner … they should be savoured and looked on with wonderment.
A selection of flowers picked this morning shows the garden is in the blue spectrum of flowering. Sweet smelling and heady – lilac blossom, sweet rocket and phlox. Heavenly scented.
The naked earth is warm with Spring,
And with green grass and bursting trees
Leans to the sun’s kiss glorying,
And quivers in the sunny breeze.
The year’s at the spring
And day’s at the morn;
Morning’s at seven;
The hillside’s dew-pearled;
The lark’s on the wing;
The snail’s on the thorn;
God’s in His heaven -
All’s right with the world!
‘Til next time – take care – and enjoy your weekend.