Arrival was imminent, if not overdue. As I was most eager to meet the new gang members I spent most of last Thursday offering words of encouragement. Helpful little whispers such as “get a move on!” “push, push” and “come on fatty, time to get shifting”. I blame James Herriot. Anyway I was thrilled a couple of days ago when I received notice that not only were there two new rasta lambs, but Gypsy had produced her foal. This morning it was almost too much to bear.
For the gardening community this is the busiest time of year. What exacerbates these hectic days is that there is no gradual lead-in to the chaos. Much of the garden has been snoozing for the winter months and all at once, without any gentle stretching or leisurely breakfast, spring is up and running and half way down the road. If we are not very careful we can be left behind in its wake, spinning round like a cartoon character. Things are going off left, right and centre, weeds are popping up at an alarming rate and all those jobs you meant to get done before growth started are mocking you. It is difficult to know quite where to begin, our minds become panicky and clouded with chores. So, just for a moment, let yourself become lost in the cool and calming lime green flowers of this euphorbia. Then come on, shake a leg, get moving, or you will never catch up!
This is not the time for shyness, there is no need to be bashful, just get up close and have a good old gander. For a change why don’t you try a bee’s eyes view (and they have lots of them – three simple and two compound eyes as you asked). Stick your head into that flower and have a look at what is going on in there. Stigma, style, anthers, filament, they are all lurking there, primed and ready to do their respective jobs. Each species will look different, shape, size, number of parts, this is one of the ways that botanists identify or group plants together. That may be a job best left to the experts but I am sure you will find that the engine room is not only ingenious, it is very beautiful.
It is not often that I am alone in a garden anymore. This is not a complaint, I enjoy working with other people on their plots and sharing thoughts and ideas. But today I was alone again, naturally. It was rather nice. As was the jaw droppingly, stunning magnolia that had been in bud a couple of weeks ago. Now you can come back from your holidays and keep me company!
All day I have been trying to sit down and write this blog. Now it is late (for me) and I have to work tomorrow early (for me) so I will precis what was intended. Devon Subtropical, nonstop chat, creamy hedychiums, crazy cats, budding Hildebrand, passionate flowers, exuberant gunnera, flowering brugmansia, premature canna, strangled bananas, guerrilla openings, electric blue geckos, all rounded off with some fragrant Viburnum x burkwoodii. You may well be relieved you only got the condensed version.
And we are off!!! The larch has finally awoken and each and every branch, branchlet (and curiously also at odd intervals across the trunk) is now covered with thousands upon thousands of lime green whirls. Over the last week or so they have evolved from bashful mini-shaving brushes to porcupines in full display. You can almost feel the energy, their enthusiastic gusto, as they burst forth in a way that surely encapsulates the word “spring”. I can’t help thinking this is going to be the my perfect “watching” moment. That it would be hard to beat this time when everything is so fresh, so innocent. These avocado hued needles have yet to toughen, they are yet to be exposed to wind or rain or harsh sun, they are soft and pliable and vulnerable. But harden they will and they will continue to do their job of feeding this tree throughout the summer into autumn, whether I think they are more or less beautiful than before. That of course is the most important thing.
George was in a foul mood today, in fact he was in a first class strop, he kicked over his water bucket, he bellowed and he grumbled and he stomped and he barged. Still sleeping beauty did not rise from her slumbers. It was probably best just to ignore his temper tantrums, now come on Georgie Boy, cuddle up!
Yes a Cuckoo Pint, Arum maculatum. What do you mean you were expecting that harbinger of spring and prize nest squatter Cuculus canorus? Sorry. Earlier today, whilst innocently skipping through the streets of fair Ilfracombe, I was stopped in my tracks by this outlandish inflorescence, which is known as a spadix. If I was a Victorian lady I would have averted my eyes. I may have blushed a little. I tiptoed past sleeping Rottweilers to take this photo. Luckily I didn’t have my tap shoes on …..
This lovely little member of the saxifrage family enticed me with its rosy autumnal foliage. Little did I know quite how delightful the flower spikes of Mukdenia rossii would be, standing tall above the barely emerging bronze/green palmate leaves. If you have a sliver of woodlandesque garden, not too dry, I would recommend this Chinese native for a long season of splendid interest. It certainly brightened a misty spring morning for me.
Over the years it has become apparent to me that some plants are more reluctant to awaken in the spring than others. They like to take their own time, pootle along at their own rate, unaffected by what others may be doing around them, namely participating in the Great Spring Re-Clothing. These plants are players in a horticultural soap opera, complete with a dramatic “will they wont they?” cliff hanger, the following episode culminating in an emotional finale “yes I am still alive, and it was actually all a dream”. In my garden the reticent “I’m just not a morning person” is Cercis canadensis “Forest Pansy”. It may have good reason to be sloth-like as I have held it captive for the last few years in a pot. A large pot admittedly but still a pot. I wouldn’t blame it for being a little miffed. However today I have spotted some buds so we should be on our way very soon. The fine weather, a handful of fertiliser and a few encouraging words (delusional I know) and before long those demon hearts will be emerging again. Whilst in confessional mode I should point out that we have several trees in pots; some delicate like the Japanese Maples, some less so like Liquidambar styraciflua. It is a prime example of when Plant Lust wins over Plant Sense. One day they will be released, but only on the day that I have the space to liberate them. Until then I will try my best to keep them happy and recount tales of halicon days to come, when they will feel the bare earth beneath their roots and they will be able to run free ……….
This acer, however, is not ashamed to unfurl its merlot leaves for all to admire.
Off The Edge Gardening