CASTING NO CLOUTS

March is still with us so beware the Ides, weather and cast no clouts.

So, this summer the boardwalk and ponds will go and become part of something bigger, pond wise.

The grandchildren have been down there this morning with nets catching tadpoles and we have a washing up bowl outside the kitchen door with them in, and a bit of watercress. (The taddies not the grandchildren.)
The willows in the distance will come out and I have an idea for them in the dell in the top of the garden - something sculptural R will probably hate.

I have seen no newts yet though we did introduce them last year but the odd toad has returned from its amorous adventures overland to a nearby tarn.

And we have had some blue sky!














We tidied the stream where it comes down from the top garden to the lower removing dead grass, old brittle angelica and hogweed stems, fallen sticks and other mess. We have a small maple there and it has been revealed. The royal fern had dead stuff taken away - no croziers yet.

The hawthorn is in leaf and the blackthorn coming into flower so I hope we are frost free so the sloes can set. We have not made any sloe gin for a year or two so, perhaps we can do that - if we have any fruit.


It is mother's day tomorrow and C has sent R a card with old photos of her and the three children taken from our Dropbox site. Fortunately I am not on them (being the one taking the snaps) to spoil the moment.

I am in two minds what, if anything, to do about the zig-zag path up from the lawn above the veg beds to the wooded area. The easiest solution would to be do nowt but then . . . ?

One of the joys of a garden with woodland is shadow, or rather the contrast between shadow and light. It moves with the sun (and occasionally moon) and adds an extra dimension to the garden. In the winter the tree shadows are sharper than when the leaves are on and the darknesses become denser.














Even at this time of year there are surprises in the garden - I had forgotten the purple anemones on the banking below the kitchen. Wild daffodils seem to spring up in new places.

April is almost with us, the swallows and martins returning - I hope they nest this year before the tree sparrows get in first. There is something uplifting when I am in the garden and the first swallow scythes air above my head, the sky becomes full of chatter - whoops, getting emotional - perhaps the winter for all its mildness was too long.

And this summer we will return to Wales, to Pembrokeshire, for a week with family, a walk to Broadhaven along the cliffs for a paper, tide out - a stroll to Madoc's Haven at the edge of the sea, watching Peregrine's dancing in the sky, listening to the grasshoppers in the sun, watching the sun set over St David's across St Bride's Bay.

Time to put the taddies back in the pond, must go!