My morning inspection at Blaen Cwmdu Farm did not go well today. I was left with more concerns than ever for our NGS September opening. I’m sure this will not be the last time I will feel this way. In fact it is probably healthy. Torture is traditional in the lead up to the big open day, becoming incrementally more painful as the weeks pass by. Remind me again why we are doing this?

The problem is that everything is looking too good. Despite the weather, or perhaps because of it, everything is flowering well and early. Too well, too early. By late summer/early autumn surely all will be spent, exhausted, shadows of their former selves. Husks, desolation and weeping gardeners are all that will remain to entertain our visitors.
Of course, all is not lost. I have been trying my best to combat the dreadful prospect of public ridicule. Dead heading, of course. I’ve also been chopping back perennials as soon as the last bloom even thinks about fading, then feeding and watering well, in the hope that they will feel fit to perform an encore. We also have plenty of late seasoners, including salvias and dahlias, ornamental grasses and foliage plants which should provide plenty of interest. Just in case, I will also practice my cartwheels and tap dancing in the slim chance that a diversion is needed.

The cardoon’s violet flat top is in full flower for the first time and will by September have morphed into a stand of tanned sculptural thistles. Earlier, I went looking for an apian photo opportunity knowing they are catnip for bees. Trying to angle my phone to capture the ecstatic insects, I noticed something unfamiliar fluttering in the corner of my sightline. A hummingbird hawk-moth! I was absolutely thrilled. I felt honoured by this apparent approval from a hhm. And it was also a reminder that this is a garden teeming with life, supported by our planting and the wild areas that surround the more formal places. It occurred to me that this is far more important in the scheme of things. This is why we do it.
The fear of what is or what is not flowering in nine weeks time must not sully my time in the garden. It is good now, far from perfect, but we have come a long way. And I’ve always found perfect to be boring. By September it will be splendid and if for some reason is isn’t then I’m sure the cake will be wonderful.






































