Spring has honestly sprung.
Which is always exciting in any garden, bringing with it promises of beauty and excellence.
I’ve been a bit busy lately getting a new book ‘out there’ and dealing with the oddness of publishing something so far outside my usual genre. A pillowbook, for heaven’s sake!
And in amongst that, taking time to push on with the next in a hist.fict series – this one entitled Reliquary. Such things serve to remove one somewhat from the garden and gardening. Then again, it’s been so damned cold that one could barely pick up secateurs, let alone open them.
Before I start, happy birthday to SoS and congrats to Mr.Propagator for starting the whole thing three years ago. It’s been such a bonus for me, watching and learning about different shrubs and plants and meeting gardenaholics. So thank you, Jonathan!
My pics today are from earlier in the week when it was springlike and sunny. Today, on my end of the globe, it’s wet, windy and chilly with frequent little cold cells drifting across the radar and preventing any outdoors activity at all – something I don’t take kindly to.
This week on SoS, I’m offering two gardens.
The state of one is the direct result of Covid-19.
We’ve been in lockdown with borders closed for quite a while here in my state of Tasmania (Australia). If one had a shack anywhere, (a second residence on coast, rural or highlands), one could stay there for the duration of the lockdown, only venturing away for food, exercise and medical requirements.
It’s similar to the UK, I believe – Stay Safe, Stay Home.
Golly, I certainly didn’t think I’d have any plants to talk about but because of the C-Virus, and our island declaring a State of Emergency and shutting its borders, I’ve spent a lot of time in the garden, doing the autumn cutback.
It’s been wonderful, I’ve found:
It’s been such a long time since I SOS-ed.
The main reason is the ongoing drought where I live.
Deciduous trees are yellowing and losing leaves, not because autumn approaches, but because of lack of water. Our subsoil is dry for at least a metre, if not more. The above is one of two massive sixty year old willows in our garden, favourite hiding places of our grandson and our terrier.
My borders stopped flowering weeks ago and whilst we can keep the borders alive, it’s as though the plants are going into hibernation. So there’s little to photograph as even in the city, trees are beginning to shed, street verges are dry and in some cases just dirt. And gardens of the less interested are looking awful.
However, on a quick walk yesterday, I took pics of what caught my eye and gave me hope that this pervasive dry will end one day and it will rain.
Acorns in a street row of oaks. I love the trees – so shady in summer.
Down a little lane and shaded from the worst of the westerly sun, this tiny little clematis (unknown?) which I found so pretty. I wouldn’t mind a cutting, as I have a thing for clematis.
Which brings me to seedheads of Clematis Montana in my own garden.
Nasturtiums. Love the colours, love the taste of the flowerheads in a salad.
And finally, Pachystegia insignis. This plant that grows down the road from our little city-bolthole is the one that caught my eye a while ago with its leaves. It has papery white flowers and now these wonderful seedheads. It’s very hardy and I purchased three last year. All in tubs as a plantsman friend says they do best in tubs, she has found.
And that’s it from me for this week and probably for a little while because of the drought. It will soon be time to begin reading catalogues, to separate seeds and think about propagating, but without adequate water, it’s hard to divine anything beyond life-support for what one already has.
So pootle on to other wonderfully wet northern hemisphere gardens with The Propagator, folks. It’s envy on steroids!
Once upon a time…
… we downsized to a small house with a tiny garden. The garden, once established, had to give us (and the dog) joy. And an escape from the city outside the gates, because we’re not city folk.
It also had to promise to care for itself for large tracts of time.
So not a lot to ask really…
We’ve been in the city for 10 days, but are now back in the big garden. Despite lack of water and freezing conditions, the garden has surprised us, doing things with a distinct ‘Where’s spring?’ attitude. My six might show that our garden is gradually waking from winter (such as winter was…)