Saturday, 17 June 2017


I have decided to prune the lower branches off the white lilac as they are shading out surrounding plants. Then R and I walk to the top clearing in the wood and I realise, if I removed a hazel and an elderberry there would be a fine view across the bay - cue for a seat even though a lot of the time the big trees next door would leave it out of the sun - would be good on hot summer days though - if we get any.
Just as I am about to go out (R has gone off to church to wield the chalice) I receive a happy Father's Day text (except it is next week.)

The trees are duly cut down and heaped in a bonfire (not lit). I walk up to the top grassy area and look at the new view - of a large pylon - now, where did that come from?

The weight of pigeons has demolished the hanging bird table and I have had to restring it.

I am reading Alan Bennett's Keeping On, Keeping On, R lent it to me. The trouble is I keep seeing the world now in anecdotes and observations. 

Back to the computer and there is a grey squirrel in the trap on top of the shed outside - three in four days - they are breeding like rabbits (well, squirrels).
Loaded the car with pondweed and the willow canes for P, then added the squirrel - till cannot kill them so will relocate it (I know, illegal!) Squirrels are vermin and eat birds' eggs and so on.

And just when I think I can put the trap away it goes off again - look what I caught.

Come the next morning, 6.45 am and I wake to the sound of a voice in the garden. It turns out it is R talking to a Jay trapped again - perhaps not the same one? She cannot open the thing and release it so I wander out into early morning mizzle in pyjama bottoms undo the catch and lift the flap. The jay shoots off like a guided missile

Shortly after I see the woodpecker is feeding its young, taking peanut from the feeder - lazy young bird could do that for itself?

A note for Pam who gave me a little Phormium when we moved house - we may have to move again if it gets any bigger!

But all is not delight - we still have tragedy when the small birds hit a window and die.

Come on, I hear a cry - If it's June it's Roses - so here is some of the rose bed -

and some of the roses - on the left Emma Hamilton and William Shakespeare, on the right Gertrude Jekyll and I cannot remember.

Up in the wood the Rambling Rectors are just getting going whilst on the way to the pond the Albertine is flowering. This is a beautiful old rose, if a fleeting one with a heavenly scent. All in all, apart for the one I cannot remember the name of that was given to us, the rest are from David Austin Roses. We went to their Shropshire nursery and garden once - amazing.

Of course there are other plants flowering in the garden - like this black iris - Iris chrysographes black form. And colour is s strange thing - Oh! for a blue rose but the best they can do, like Rhapsody in Blue which is purple, fall a long way short. Some clever person will move a gene from a blue delphinium no doubt - but I feel that is cheating a bit?

R has been given and early birthday present of a white Ragged Robin, something the has wanted, and it has now been put in the edge of the pond just outside her Writing shed window.

Bang! A juvenile greater spotted woodpecker has hit my window. It was stunned and breathing heavily with beak wide but finally flew up to the trellis and then away.


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