Brighten up your day with Sue Grant’s weekly updates of what’s happening early doors in her garden this spring.
“I have realised during my early morning wanderings that there are two ways of looking at the garden: “Oh dear, weeds here, nettles there, brambles coming through, branches needing pruning, daffodils needing dead-heading”, or “How wonderful to start the day just enjoying the colours, shapes and sounds of a lovely garden.” I have tried hard to stick to the latter option. But sometimes it is hard.
“However, there was so much to enjoy last week. The glorious wake up song of the thrush, now in full orchestral mode, the twitcherings of fledgling bluetits hidden in the branches, the excited dive-bombing of the house martins, the flowering of the late rhododendrons and, half way through the week, the first brilliant vermillion petals of the first oriental poppy bursting through its protective shell. Within minutes the sooty black stamens were brushed by a hungry bee seeking out the hidden nectar.
“Other pollinating insects are in abundance as the garden reaches the pinnacle of colour-eruption in the shrubs and flower borders: cherry-red and indigo from latest rhododendrons, cream and peachy-pink azaleas and dazzling yellow flags in the pond. The soft lilac chives in the herb garden nestle between brilliant lime green tansy and cobalt campanula. There’s a place for the joyful white ox-eye daisies as well as the sunshine yellow creeping buttercups. Oh yes, the weeds, as we would call them, have their moments of glory too. To some even the delicate pink and purple aquilegia, are classed as weeds. Not in my garden, where they dance amongst the fading dwarf azaleas creating a living palette of pastel shades.
“The antics of the house martins continue to fascinate me. Not only the busy chattering as they dive and swoop in and out of the eaves, but also the lively “conversations” that go on once they settle for a while on their chosen sites. Only thanks to coronavirus lockdown, with our extended quieter moments in the garden, have I had time to sit and listen to the bubbling, spluttering, babbling stream of communication high above me. It all sounds so joyful, but I suppose they could just as well be arguing!”
See all articles from Sue Grant’s column about what’s happening early doors in her garden.