the summer switchover …
First it’s the wardrobe … putting away the heavy winter clothes … and bringing the summer ones out of storage. Checking to see if everything still fits after eating heartily over winter … luckily they still do. Saying hello to old favourites that will give me another years’ wear … making mental lists of replacements needed.
Then comes the garden switchover … pulling out the last of the spring flowers to make way for the summer ones that have been waiting in pots for the right planting time. With such a glorious week of weather … and knowing that rain was on its way … I have been working like a demon to get as much planted out as I could. Going to bed exhausted each evening … a nice kind of tired … with a feeling of something achieved.
Trundling up and down the garden path with trugs full of compost to revitalise the garden beds … heavy work … I feel just a little muscle-bound … frequent cups of tea were needed sitting in the shade … to keep me going. I almost finished … just a batch of Zinnias to plant out … but I have run out of space. It rained heavily overnight … flattening lots of plants … and watering the newly planted … saving me another hosepipe session.
As I am writing this it has started to pour with rain … thunder rumbles around the sky … lightening flashes … and I am thinking that I may have been premature with the wardrobe switchover … not exactly shorts weather. Personally … I am glad of a rest day … I need to replenish my energy before getting back out there to bring some order to the borders that are running riot … who said gardening was easy … not me … it’s darned hard work.
“You're not a gardener, are you? So perhaps you don't know that once a garden is established, much of good gardening is about removal rather than planting, honing what you have to produce a pleasing effect, sacrificing the particular for the good of the whole. Gardening is a creative pastime, but the result is always a work in progress; unlike a painting or a piece of music a garden is never fixed in time. ("In The Garden")”
― Rosalie Parker