At the time of writing we are in the midst of our fourth heatwave of the year with no guarantee that it is the final one. Whilst, like most sun lovers, I revel in blue skies and warm (not hot!) […]
After the recent end to a long sunny period without rain and the premature flowering of so many plants, it is difficult to realise that officially, summer is only just beginning. Since I bought and planted numerous plants and shrubs […]
Whatever happened to the ‘April showers’? I have been heavily occupied with watering due to cracking ground and drooping leaves and not just for new plants. At the time of writing there are no clouds in a clear blue sky, […]
This spring as it comes bursts up in bonfires green, Wild puffing of emerald trees, and flame-filled bushes, Thorn-blossom lifting in wreaths of smoke between Where the wood fumes up and the watery, flickering rushes. D. H. Lawrence (1885-1930) After […]
Come, children, gather round my knee; Something is about to be. Tonight’s December thirty-first, Something is about to burst. The clock is crouching, dark and small, Like a time bomb in the hall. Hark! It’s midnight, children dear. Duck! Here […]
I leant upon a coppice gate When Frost was spectre-gray, And Winter’s dregs made desolate The weakening eye of day. The tangled bine-stems scored the sky Like strings of broken lyres, And all mankind that haunted nigh Had sought their […]
When summer’s end is nighing And skies at evening cloud, I muse on change and fortune And all the feats I vowed When I was young and proud. The weathercock at sunset Would lose the slanted ray, And I would […]
The average lawn, left alone one hundred years, could become a hardwood forest. An admirable project. Still I carry on, following week on week the same mowing pattern, cutting edges, almost sprinting the last narrow swaths. Robert Wrigley (b.1951) At […]
If I could stay up late no doubt I’d catch the buds just bursting out; And up from every hidden root Would jump a tiny slender shoot; I wonder how seeds learn the way, They always know the very day- […]
I watched a blackbird on a budding sycamore One Easter Day, when sap was stirring twigs to the core; I saw his tongue, and crocus-coloured bill Parting and closing as he turned his trill; Then he flew down, seized on […]
When winter winds are piercing chill, And through the hawthorn blows the gale, With solemn feet I tread the hill, That overbrows the lonely vale. O’er the bare upland, and away Through the long reach of desert woods, The embracing […]
Go from me, summer friends and tarry not: I am no summer friend, but wintry cold, A silly sheep benighted from the fold, A sluggard with a thorn-choked garden plot. Christina Rossetti (1830-1894) Bathing in the warm rays of this […]