... Always The Garden

"When the world wearies and society fails to satisfy, there is always the garden."

The weather over the past few weeks has been glorious. Sunshine and blue skies have meant that I have spent every possible moment either in the garden or at the allotment. Housework has been minimal and stitching put to one side.

A trip to the coast was appealing, but wasting time driving and sitting in traffic was not, especially when the garden looked so beautiful.

After nursing my plants through the hard winter, they were now making up for lost time and bursting forth with blooms. 

The roses have been superb, the best they have ever been as they flowered prolifically in the hot sunshine.

Gertrude Jekyll, 

Boule de Neige

Mdm Alfred Carriere

 and

Souvenir de la Malmaison to name but a few.

Clematis Guernsey Cream was late to flower this year, but worth the wait.

In the "white" border, 

spires of lupins,

foxgloves 

and delphiniums tower over lychnis and a white peony, 

below the dovecote and the aptly named Cephalaria Gigantea.

Located in the top corner of the garden, is a little bird feeder with a half coconut to which flock families of tits, sparrows and blackbirds that nest in the hedge. Even as I sat nearby, I would hear a rustle in the hedge and high pitched cheeps as the baby birds emerged to feed. 

Once one of the dreaded magpies uttered its raucous cackles and attempted to bully it's way on to the feeder, but a determined and courageous dove flew at it and successfully drove it away.

A young blackbird frequents the garden and after watching from the wires above, flew down and squawked loudly and audaciously from the hedge, 

(as if to goad Evie as she lay basking peacefully in the sunshine)

before feeding voraciously upon the coconut.

A new edition to the pond in the front garden is "The Frog". 

Larger than Freddie Frog who once frequented the trough in the back garden, "The Frog" looks more like a He-Man type of Frog, scaling the vertical precipitous walls of the pond.

(At the allotment another little frog lives under the creeping thyme and can be seen occasionally as I unwittingly disturb him during his ventures out and about. I am in constant fear of him being stood upon and am very tempted to erect "Beware of the Frog" signs).

Alas, the Dark Forces are never far away, watching and waiting to make life difficult. This time it was in the form of Storm Hateful Hector that blew up from nowhere on Wednesday, with winds that wreaked havoc and destruction - decimating the garden, heartlessly breaking down the leaf laden trees and Cephalaria and brutally decapitating the roses. 

I confess that I was ever so slightly upset, and have not yet been able to summons up the energy for the clean-up operation. Turning my back for the moment upon the garden I have resumed my stitching

and taken pleasure from the simple sprig of flowers 

 presented to me by the lovely Professor from his allotment.

 xxx