Gardening in a Gale
Easter buns March arrived as docile as a lamb and then began to roar, continued to roar and will leave still roaring. Spring took one look at the weather map and immediately fled southwards, leaving us cold, wet and miserable. Any daffodil foolhardy enough to raise its head was immediately decapitated, the primroses huddled in… Continue reading Easter: lambs, lions, swans & buns
While we were away, the wind blew and blew, it rained and rained again, the garden became more and more bedraggled and the only thing that grew in the polytunnel were the weeds. Meteorologically, spring may have officially sprung on 1 March, or alternatively, astronomically on 20 March, but we are still enduring the equinox… Continue reading Beauty in the eye of the beholder
Time and tide wait for no man, nor do the seasons. The oystercatchers "speed dating club" has been in action for weeks with noisy groups of birds gathering in the fields, voraciously probing for invertebrates and acting like hormone-fuelled teenagers. The skylarks are rather more refined and have been proclaiming their territories with glorious song-flights… Continue reading Spring imperative
If the wheel of the celestial seasons turns on the axis of a pomegranate* it is not too surprising that spring is as contrary and unpredictable as any daughter of Eve. In the north she arrives as a thawing ice maiden suffusing the dark skies with a soft opalescent light as she is release from… Continue reading Northern Spring
Croft Garden 