Gardens

“And imitate the stars celestial…

Magnolia stellata in yesterday’s spring gale

“Learn then to dance, you that are princes born,
And lawful lords of earthly creatures all;
Imitate them, and therefore take no scorn,
For this new art to them is natural.
And imitate the stars celestial;
For when pale death your vital twist shall sever,
Your better parts must dance with them forever.”

Stanza 60 from Orchestra or Poem of Dancing by Sir John Davies English poet, lawyer and politician (1569- 1626). You can find the full work HERE.

And more about Sir John Davies HERE.

But for now, why not do as the poet and Mr. Bowie says: Let’s Dance…

Bright Square #6

Yippee For Yellow!

It’s that time of year when thoughts turn to seed sowing, or at least to sorting out the seed packets and checking what needs to be dealt with when. There are visions, too, of new planting schemes – as in trying to remember where things are in the garden. With some plants you never do know. The Welsh poppies are complete vagabonds and can pitch up in the most unlikely quarters. Likewise the dandelions, the little gate-crashers. Needless to say, the garden must have plenty of yellow. Got to keep the bees, bugs and butterflies well fed. In the meantime, here’s a reprise of some of last summer’s best yellows.

Life in Colour: Yellow

Life In Colour: Yellow

The wayward Polar Vortex has apparently been behind the recent frigid weather events in the northern hemisphere. But at last there’s been a shift in the UK: from locked-down locked-in C minuses to double-figure plus. Even so, it’s hardly warm and the garden, though defrosted, looks as if it’s been shot-blasted. And so to encourage it and me into thoughts of spring, I’m posting this very exuberant sunflower. Soon be time to sow some seeds for this year’s crop.

In the meantime I’m wondering if the Dyer’s Chamomile in the guerrilla garden over the garden fence will have survived the cold. It made such a show a couple of years ago, though I remember when I sowed it, the packet described it as a short-lived perennial. I’m thinking a fresh sowing won’t hurt. There are times when you can’t have too much yellow.

Over the garden fence: Dyer’s Chamomile and Townsend Meadow under wheat

Life in Colour: Yellow

Elementally Exhilarating And A Cautionary Tale

A scene of things to come in the northern hemisphere – daffodil extravaganza. But not just yet. The leaves may be pushing up through the soil, even a few buds showing, but spring is on hold, as in icily gripped. We had more snow last night, only a dusting, but the temperature feels Siberian. So to brighten things up I’m reprising these photos from a visit to Bodnant Garden in North Wales, taken in early spring a few years ago.

I’m lucky to still have them.

Which brings me to this week’s moderate, though potentially horrendous disaster on the computer front, the bottom line of which is: do not put blind faith in an external hard drive for storage purposes! Back up the back up. And then back that up too.

I’ve had so many ‘lost file’ situations over the years – dying computers being the main cause. So I should have known not to keep my photo files on an external hard drive without some consistent backing-up routines. I’m also thinking that leaving the thing mostly attached to the PC was not a good idea – not least with Windows 10 wretched updates so often on the rampage. They seem to create total system muck-ups before and after they happen.

Anyway, the storage failure is not as bad as it might have been, and I have enlisted the aid of an IT whizz to see if he can extract the files. I can also retrieve some lost shots from my blog though I’m not looking forward to doing that. In the meantime more cheering daffodils are called for. It was wonderful to see the effect they had as soon as people clapped eyes on them – and not just the children.

Life In Colour: YELLOW Jude has given as a new colour to think about in February. Guaranteed to lift the spirits.

Upsy-Daisy Does It

It was definitely a case of trial and error. This wood pigeon was far too big and heavy to perch safely in our little crab apple tree AND snaffle the apples. Various approaches were attempted. Finally the down-under manoeuvre did the trick. Success!

Square Up#20

Today Becky is using her magic crystal ball to do some conjuring.

Bird Weekly – up tails all

This week Lisa wants to see ‘butts in the air’ bird life.

Iced Up

Yesterday we woke to an all-over frosting, every outdoor surface bristling with ice crystals. This led (once well wrapped up) to a long prowl around the Farrell estate to see what caught the eye. I was rather taken with the Echinops seed head over the garden fence. It made me think of ice lollies, or sherbet on a stick. The fence looked pretty enticing too, and behind it the dead-flower spikes of lemon balm.

Square Up #8

Apple Snaffling

For the last couple of days this male blackbird has been tucking into our garden crab apples. He has a technique. Using his beak like a dagger, he jabs downwards with great vigour, slicing off morsels. Sometimes, though, he ends up with a mouthful he cannot swallow, which then requires a descent to the garden path where sets about cutting the apple down to size. All part of the morning’s seasonal entertainment at the Farrell establishment.

Lens-Artists: ‘A’ This week Patti asks us for subjects that start with the letter ‘A’.

Over The Garden Fence

It does seem perverse to photograph the guerrilla garden’s very colourful crab apples in monochrome. I anyway didn’t much care for the result. Then I started tweaking the exposure and contrast in my editing programme and thought that this was quite an interesting ‘take’ for Cee’s challenge this week of circles and curves. And then I had a look at the photos I’d taken of the dewy grass over in the field – some very gentle curves and glittery droplets, blue or sepia tinted. Pleasing, I thought.

Cee’s Black & White Photo Challenge: circles and curves

The Changing Seasons ~ November 2020

I could swear it was only yesterday I was compiling October’s Changing Seasons post. Fascinating how time flies under lockdown and loss of civil liberties. Still, here on the Edge things are peaceable if rain-sodden, though we have been blessed with some perfect-sun interludes.

On rain-free days my gardening mind has mostly been on leaf collecting. This year the field maple and oak have been delivering double servings on the lane beside the allotment so I don’t have far to go to fetch them. I have created various ad hoc silos out of wire to store them, and this method does seem to speed up decomposition. Though adding some comfrey leaves and grass cuttings also helps. Anyway, already by September last autumn’s leaf stores had yielded sufficient quantities of chocolatey compost to give the summer raspberries a good, deep mulching.

There is also much tidying to be done on the allotment plots – taking down the bean poles, turning compost heaps, netting winter greens against pigeon attack. There’s still been lots to pick on the outside beds – beetroot, carrots, leeks, some chard and perennial spinach. The polytunnel goes on producing too. I took out the last of the tomato plants this week. As each plant finished I’ve been using the space for spinach, lettuce, kohl rabi, Russian kale and cauliflower seedlings. At the moment they are still growing, and I even had to remove some highly unseasonal caterpillars. I also have a very impressive bed of coriander, and some Chinese mustard greens. How they will all over-winter is a matter of waiting and seeing, but at the moment there’s plenty to make a good green salad. Lots to be happy about.

The Changing Seasons: November 2020

Please visit Su to see her New Zealand November gallery.

Iced!

The other morning I found the frost had left this ice skin on the very top of the garden water butt. We’ve had days of rain and it was filled to the brim with downpourings from the old privy roof. Most curious, I thought. It looks like a pile of actual leaves, some reedy plant, say. Or else in some mysterious way the water’s surface had replicated, as it froze, the flattened leaves of the Crocosmia that grows a few feet away over the fence. So does this mean that a common or garden water butt can make art; or create, when the elements conspire, its own version of monochrome digital images? It would seem so. I herewith proffer the evidence.

Cee’s Black & White Photo Challenge: close-ups

This week Cee gives up lots of close-up inspiration. Please pay her a visit.

Tish Farrell

Writer on the Edge