Late June, the gardens in full bloom...

Have you read the short story, The Visitor by Roald Dahl? If not, I recommend it. The reason I ask, is to my great pleasure on re-reading it last week, the lead character, in one scene, reads Gilbert White’s Natural History of Selbourne. Those of you familiar with my blog will be familiar with White and I need say no more.           

            Summer really has announced itself this with lots of dry weather and plenty of sun with some overnight rain too. A perfect elixir for the plants to thrive. The Buddleia is almost in full bloom, the jasmine is flowering, the dahlia, rescued following near assassination by slugs is magnificent and the rather unpleasantly named Scabious is in top form, it’s long spindly arms and lilac flowers spreading out in all directions. These flowers are popular with the pollinators thus they are precious as well as giving colour and beauty to the garden. The warm weather has also benefited the lavender. I love lavender, though I know little about it. We have three different types, one of them is French lavender, none are English which I’ve noticed in other peoples’ gardens in magnificent shape. This isn’t racism, purely circumstantial. One in particular is most inspiring having survived the long winter and proclaiming its beauty with disdain for the snows of last March. It’s not quite Provence but nevertheless. Another of my favourite plants, a wild bramble is also doing quite well, it’s lovely white flowers also very popular with bumble bees, in particular.

            The only plant that keeps me waiting is a hydrangea bush.  I don’t actually like hydrangeas, they look like hats elderly women wore in the 60’s and 70’s but this one, I kind of rescued two summers ago, inadvertently when I cleared lots of bushes at the side of the garden allowing it to come back to life last year with beautiful pink flowers. It’s beginning to bloom slowly and enticingly.

            The roses are not flowering particularly in huge numbers but such is the beauty of a single white rose, it’s a case of quality not quantity that keeps me happy.

            As for the herbs, some slugs have given my basil a bit of a pasting, I was a little late and lazy thanks failing to put out a beer trap (very effective) with enough regularity. I’m hoping the basil comes through now that I’ve managed to remember to top up the beer levels on a daily basis. The chive flowers have gone as I knew they would but my lemon thyme has recently flowered. A stunning site, a plethora of purply-pink flowers matching anything in the garden at the moment.  One of my mint plant continues to suffer, the other is doing better, growing so vigorously that whatever beastie is turning the leaves white can’t seem to keep up.

             A warm June is I think, one of the great times of the year in a garden. The plants are perhaps at the peak of their powers, rejoicing in their splendour. There’s not much left of June, if you have a garden, make the most of it.

            The birds are a little less splendrous. Whatever young have are survived still hassling their parents for food. The grown-ups will be looking forward to a much earned break in a month or two. Still no summer visitors to the garden, sadly. I am partial to a Willow Warbler, a delightful little bird and I remain optimistic that one or two will make an appearance. I did see, our friend, Dan the greater spotted woodpecker for a brief moment last week which is always a thrill. And the swifts continue to thrill too, as they screech past high in the sky. And the fellow in the picture, a common frog has been hanging out too. I like frogs very much.  When I say, fellow, I may be wrong, but I felt some kind of brotherly connection with him or her. They live a solitary life outside the breeding season, just chilling and they eat slugs which is good too. Last year there were two, so hopefully some others will join. With no pond, there’s no action possible, however. This garden is for celibate frogs only.

            A garden is a truly splendid thing, ever-changing and ever challenging but the more effort you p

ut in, the more you’ll be rewarded. I wonder if Machiavelli was a gardener?

More Garden Notes...with a slice of pineapple...

"Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May",  according to Shakespeare and he was right, May can be outrageously inclement, but I rather prefer, Richard Hannay’s - well, John Buchan’s technically – description from that fine yarn, The Thirty-Nine Steps, “It was fine May weather, with the hawthorn flowering on every hedge”.  Not the most complex prose ever written but an apt summation of the joys of May.

May was apparently the hottest on record. Didn’t seem that way though there were certainly a few hot spells. That combined with several wet days has seen an explosion of greenery. Even my lavender which I feared for, given my clumsy preening,

is thriving since my last post, albeit in a rather eccentric shape. Sadly, for technical reasons, I have no pictures to prove it. On an even sadder note, my delightful chive flowers’ days are numbered. Chives flowers’ lease, to paraphrase Shakespeare from the afore-quoted sonnet, “hath all too short a date”.

Our “pineapple tree” is also thriving. Not real pineapples of course, this isn’t Kew Gardens – do Pineapples even grow on trees? – but very exotic flowers, which, my friends, the bees love. No idea what the actual tree is called but its flowers are spectacular, though they do distract the bees from what I have on offer, but it’s not all about me. Bees are a bit like cute babies. Don't be upset if they ignore you, just be happy if they're happy. Besides my Buddleia (Buddleja according to some people, no names mentioned, Fe Morris) haven’t yet bloomed and from my experience not many flowers please bees more. It’s a bit like immigration. No controversy intended here; let me explain. We have nice food in this country, there’s some good stuff, but let’s face it, Indian and Chinese are probably better. Maybe the bees feel the same about Buddleia which is also an immigrant, coming I believe from China, a century or two back.

            Regarding the herbs, yet again, my mint is almost destroyed again within a month of planting. I’d been led to believe that was mint was indestructible, but for the third summer in a row it’s been destroyed by one or various beasties or “little bastards” as they’re alternatively referred to. My regular thyme is also looking a bit pasty despite its profusion of flowers recently but my lemon thyme, with the most extraordinary perfume, reminds me of an ice lolly from my childhood, is thriving. The vagaries of plants.

            We did have our first summer summer visitor which is exciting, however, it’s a bit of a cheat as I occasionally see a Blackcap in winter. I've written about them before. It's maybe not the same one, but although, effectively a summer visitor, they often overwinter, mocking our assertions, or maybe they just reckon that a winter on London is easier than flying to the south of Spain. As a wannabe ( and for one year, some time ago) ex-pat, I can confirm that winter in the south of Spain is far preferable, as long as you avoid the Irish bar. The point being, I live in hope of seeing the odd Willow Warbler, Chiffchaff or Garden Warbler, all true symbols of summer and less confused about their lifestyle choice.

            The swifts have been prevalent, I counted 7 yesterday, flying high in the blue sky. Often revealing the presence by their screeching, I never tire of watching them. Today, they’re no-where to be seen as it’s very grey, but they’ll be back as soon the blue sky and warmth return.

            Elsewhere, it's pretty quiet on the bird front. Robins, Tits, Blackbird and so on are still singing a bit and I’m beginning to see the odd fledgling but it’s still pretty quiet. One particularly bedraggled Blue Tit that I see from time to time has my genuine sympathy. For birds, like humans, raising young is pretty tiring and all-consuming. Well so my friends who are parents keep telling me...