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?