Just at the back of the house, in a sheltered spot, it is difficult to guess which scent will arrive next. A playful breeze whips around, carrying mixed florals and new-cut grass. The cotoneaster hums with happy honey bees and has underplanting of ragged robin and cranesbill geranium; both self sown. I reach through the rough branches to snip tendrils of ivy trying to make for the roof. The bees don't seem to mind.
Neglect has a dual effect on the garden. Some features spoil of course, stronger plants push out the more delicate and fussy. Nature creates its own beauty though and, while trying to make up for too much neglect and bring some old beds back to cultivation it is hard to remove the wild accidents, the happy chaos. Weeding is in the eye of the beholder, considering that weeds are plants in the wrong place. I aim to tame and train, rather than delete heavily and impose my own order.
In the last six weeks I think I've found every football that my children ever owned. I suppose this must happen, given that they are not biodegradable and we never threw them away. Lodged underneath box hedging seems to be the popular spot. Less welcome in the hedging are bramble and field maple, but I forgive the phormiums and aquilegia.
No comments:
Post a Comment