BUSTING OUT ALL OVER

But it is only April not June. Azaleas, camellias, tree peonies, campion etc etc etc. The amaryllis is in flower and on the hall table. Of the other two - both at least four years old, one has a bud coming but not the other - so water and feed and build the bulbs. 

There are tulips everywhere, in the flower beds, in pots and just coming up where I discarded them.

The two camellias that have not yet flowered are finally showing signs of doing something and up on the banking where, about nine years ago, we planted a solitary cowslip we have a growing community.

The heavily scented rhododendron is going over - its rather gingery scent carries across the garden.

Trees go on with their show of white - pear on the left, cherry on the right - the one R bought in the Lidl for almost nothing. I have never seen our conference pear with so much blossom, in fact three years ago I thought it would not survive - but now - !

At the top of the wood, where we discarded the old forgetmenots pulled from the flower beds, they have self sown and are thriving as is the water cress in the remains of the attempt at another pond at the very far end. It is now just a soggy bog. The water drains from the back field full of farm animals so we do not eat it for the chance of liver flukes but we could probably make soup from it.

 From the house we can look down the garden over the new rose bed currently full of forgetmenots but if you look the other way we still have builders - at least now doing paving in front of the new living room windows.

Down the far end of the garden is where the wild things are, plants like the bluebell (used to be endymion non-scripta but they have changed its first name to hyacinthoides - a step back I think if more botanically accurate.)

Then there are plants that if they were are bit more restrained in procreation would be welcomed as a garden plant like the wonderful dandelion. (No I do not know which of the host of subspecies this one is.)

And I have been sowing more chard and land cress and we have been harvesting rhubarb and now the mouth-watering asparagus - steamed with a little melted salty butter.
 

And then there is the problem of the bald doormat. This little pied wagtail has been pulling threads out of it to make its nest.

On Thursday evening as I was walking the path below the house I came across this small, young rabbit. It was alive and I picked it up. It squeaked a few times and gently wriggled then went still. There was no sign of myxomatosis or injury but I wondered if it had been caught by Britain's number one predator (apart from humans) the domestic cat and my arrival had scared the cat off. 

Enough of the garden, this has been a bluebell spring so here are a few from our local walks -

    

 

THE BEST TIME OF YEAR

The sun is streaming through the window. Lambs are calling ewes, ewes lambs, collared doves cooing in the ash trees, horses cantering about in the paddock next door, a cock pheasant calls, ducks quack - not the usual dawn chorus but it is only 6 am.

Down on the shed roof a mallard drake harasses a duck guarded carefully by her mate.

There are fifteen ducklings on the pond.

It is warmer than Istanbul, Athens or Barcelona. We went to Muncaster Castle to see the bluebells.

The rhododendrons, camellias and magnolias were also out and the sun on the old rhododendron limbs made them almost human in form. The view to Scafell up the Eskdale valley  over the giant magnolia was splendid. 

Along the terrace a tame robin sat in a shrub only a few feet from us.

Back at home, on a smaller scale a rabbit scurried into the hedge.

I have used old concrete reinforcing mesh salvaged from the builders to reinforce the fence around the veg bed.


Elsewhere the spring flowers are wonderful though I fear we have lost our hamamelis which has died.

 You may notice I have put in a photo of sycamore flowering - a sort of small green laburnum - the downside being that the garden is inundated with seedlings and small trees, most only a few inches (several centimetres) tall.
I wonder, if we Brexit will we go back to feet and inches, pounds and ounces, shillings and pence? There was always something pleasurable in knowing that there were six three shillings and fourpence in a pound sterling.

So, swallows over the house, bluebells in the garden, candles on the horse chestnut, sun shining, scent everywhere, even the first asparagus ready for picking - so early - so many photographs to take and the big mower penned in by a trailer full of builders' gravel, time for a coffee in the sun, back to the house wall watching the ducks on the pond.
This is the best time of year - spring in full flood - the wakening world.

WRAPPED IN SPRING

R and the cherries.

Had a discussion with E at the weekend re Spanish and our native bluebell, about the cross hybridisation occurring. We have over 50% of the world's British bluebell population and it is much more delicate and beautiful than its chunky relative. E had a wood full of glorious blue but a few clumps of the foreign invaders. I suspect that hybridisation may have already occurred to a small extent. 

One trouble is that our bluebells are tough and self sow in flowerbeds - in fact can become a weed - so dig them up and replant in the woodland? As for the Spanish variety 💀.
Wednesday and more moving manure, sowing carrots and parsnips, mizuna and dill. Courgettes, squashes and sweet peas sown in pots in the shed.

Thursday and a sharp frost. Moorhen and Drake on the pond. I say to R that I do not know if it is Frankie or Charlie. She asks who is Frankie - she knows Charlie for when he was on the tv years ago in Mick and Montmorency. I explain - and am told I am too obscure - I mean! Sir Francis Drake.

The cherry trees are magnificent as are the damsons. The weeping silver pear is in flower as is the amelanchier.

The builders have mentioned that the scaffolding a will be coming down soon. No more skips behind the daffodils.

Frost nightly at the moment - not good news for the damsons but the tulips do not seem to mind blasting out their colour. I will have too get some new Madame Le Fevre though as the old ones are under two feet of concrete and rubble.

The magnolia stellata is splendid, even when I look out of the window and see a sparrowhawk sitting in it six feet from the window.

All the veg beds are dug now, and first broad bean through. The forcing pot is off the rhubarb - not now needed - and the first asparagus tips have broken the soil. I have even had a small bonfire as everything is so dry.

We are promised that the scaffolding comes down next week 😀

 So I promised more cherry pics and here you are -