SOS 29/8/20

(SoS is part of a blog hop called Six on Saturday for gardeners and garden lovers across the globe. The theory is that anyone can contributes pics of six gardening subjects from plants and weeds to tools, landscaping, you name it. It was begin by our MC, The Propagator, and one learns an awful lot in reading all the participating blogs.)

My gosh!

The weather today has been a reminder that spring is here and summer is just around the corner.

The air was filled with such fragrances and even after sunset we were still in short sleeves!

Husband and self worked like Trojans in the garden and I will submit a six that shows part of that next week.

In the meantime, the Little Matchbox garden showed us some excitement as spring coddled the cockles of its heart.

A double purple auricula (surely it has a romantic name!) is coming into flower.

One of the clematis plants is off its chops with new growth  in the western corner. A truly temperate winter this year instead of a quasi-Mediterranean climate has encouraged so much growth everywhere.

The adolescent Magnolia Grandiflora (the Matchbox Garden is not quite five years old) is LOADED with flowers and buds. It really is a wonderfully elegant tree.

The white pulmonaria has emerged again with a second plant just out of frame. I’m so thrilled as this was a gift from a friend some years ago in another garden and I lifted it before we moved. I thought I’d lost it, that it had rotted, but it emerged last year in a bright sunny part of the garden and I immediately lifted it and replanted it in a  shady, ferny part of the garden on the advice of Jim, from SoS.

See, Jim? Your advice is working!

A new clematis, ‘Sieboldii’, has now been tubbed with a climbing tripod.

And finally, the old firepit dish which holds round bluestone from a cove on our favourite coastline has been moved to a ferny corner where it fits far more kindly, making a much better statement.

Spring is such a lovely time in the garden. The plants that we put to sleep in winter or planted from catalogues in autumn are stirring. We stir accordingly and as the garden grows, we respond. The fragrances twine together on the breeze and plants ‘pop’ literally as one’s back is turned. My gardens look their best in spring. Summer is usually dry and hot, the lawns brown off and the plants look tired. I at least can go for a swim to cool off along the road at the beach but my poor garden relies on the hose for relief.

Anyway… as we tango into spring proper, northern gardens begin their slow waltz to autumn. Have a look at The Propagator to see gardens. across the globe.