Tuesday, 29 July 2014


So, here is the view up the garden without the willows - the remains on the right, bean poles and logs on the left banking. 
I have sorted a lot but there is still much to do.

Now you can see from the far wall to the Wendy House right down the garden. The stream will also be moved to wind through the white birches in the foreground and another 15 are to be planted in this area, carefully spaced to allow the mower between - if I want to do that.

When demolishing the willow tunnel I found the old chimes, all entangled and some had fallen off. These I have crudely restored and they now hang outside the kitchen.
They join the flying duck C gave me.

This duck has become a sitting place for the swallow fledglings though this photo has a surreal quality to it with the bodiless duck's head on the bottom left.
The duck is also now covered in swallow droppings.
I put a newspaper under the nest in the corner so it will be easier to clear away the mess in the autumn. The birds carefully keep their nest clean by sticking their posteriors over the edge and depositing their offerings below.

There has been a colourful visitor to the peanut in the person of a juvenile greater spotted woodpecker.

There is an enormous workload for the garden and I spend a lot of time thinking about it. I have been seriously thinking about a fruit cage and have got a catalogue from Knowle Nets. The question is whether I get the net and raise the beds with sleepers or just the nests. Planning is great fun and not too exhausting.

The trees and shrubs at the back of the house by the field fence will need serious trimming later in the year. The privet their has been full of flower and its scent fills the air.

My sister I has given me a book about the garden at Brantwood above Coniston Water for my birthday. John Ruskin, Jean Severn and Sally Beamish since 1988 are the main people who tended this garden. The book is by David Ingram.

When I was nobbut a lad I lived on the other side of the lake and if I sat on my bedroom windowsill I could look across the lake to Ruskin's house. I had no worries about the fifteen feet below me as I dangled one leg in the Lakeland air.
A big difference between Brantwood and here (wot, only 1?) is that no one in their right mind ventures out at dusk at Brantwood in the summer unless they wish to be devoured by midges.

You can visit the website at www.brantwood.co.uk.

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