BIT PARKY THIS WEEK

 Which of course means stay off most of the garden. Only ended up on my backside once today and that was on ice by the bottom gate.

It does mean great sunrises - 

But in the garden there is lying frozen hail. I was woken the other morning at 1 am with it thundering on the roof.

The cold has flattened the octopus geranium and its tentacles are lying on the ground. However the four pots of Madame LeFebre tulips, here are two, are showing signs of life.

Elsewhere we have snowdrops though some are half hidden in them wood where the tree came down.

There is colour, in the undersides of the magnolia leaves and in the swelling flowering currant buds.

Yet it is when the sun comes out, not often enough, that the garden lights up.

And at last it is noticeable that the nights are lightening up, well, the late afternoons.

It says in the paper that Torvill and Dean are to skate again so our heron might need a lesson or two.

But nothing lasts and the tide has brought in fog.

Finally my phone is dead, bought by my son in Mumbai many years ago for about a fiver. Got an iPhone and spent half a day setting it up after half a day trying to get my PAC number from my provider - well I could not ring them on my phone could I.

JANUARY

 January, Sick and tired, you've been hanging on me etc.

By Pilot of course but could easily have been Wet Wet Wet!

But a sliver of hope in the slightly lighter evenings and we now have a few scattered snowdrop flowers.

Back to water - everywhere - and it is going to be cold so frozen water everywhere.

Rain.

And then when all is washed away the sun comes out and the moorhen is back on the pond.

Admittedly a bit of a weak sun but when we go out the back door (the one at the side) the sarcococcus fills the air with perfume. And I have noticed it has self sown so plants for free.

There, not a lot really in the garden - you have to look for leaves and shape etc.

Good old curly kale and euphorbias to delight the old grey senses.

 

I have been neglecting the feeders somewhat - run out of niger seed for the goldfinches bit the tits still come for the sunflower seed. One trouble is that wherever I put the feeders the pheasants come calling and trample the vegetation underneath until all we have is bare soil.

So we started with Pilot - here is a cold afternoon photo of a pylon. Not quite as attractive as a tree, just different. They are a blot on the landscape and I still do not see why they could not be run underground  like the electricity cable to our house.

The hours creep on apace - was I really in HMS Pinafore?

WAITING FOR THE SUN

It is good when I receive a communication from the other side of the world, albeit asking for some of our rain. Well William, if I could find a carrier I would send it to you.

Here is the new spring in the lawn and the path below. The old hydrangea heads must have blown over from the compost heap. We have springs because we are a conjunction of two geological strata and the water runs between them.

I was walking around the garden and the hole in the woodland left by the fallen tree from a year ago is plain to see. And that is not the only holes we have - mole holes which also act as a conduit to water.

Occasionally the sun shines - lights up miscanthus heads, leaves still on the apple and the small black berries on the privet.

Elsewhere, apart from early showings from snowdrops and daffodils, the day lilies are sprouting and we even have first signs of rhubarb - forcing pot on.

At least the air must be clean here, probably because a lot of it is off the sea.

This means then lichens thrive as here on an old bit of pear tree (is that canker?) I hope not - must keep and eye on it and prune and burn if it is.

 It is Sunday and it poured this morning but has  settled now to showery. I have been out with the blower blowing away soggy leaves from the big sycamore.

R bought a bag of tulip Queen of the Night and I have put them in the pot J and D gave us for Christmas.

The heron has been eating our frogs again.

Then the sun comes out at dusk, rainbows and a magenta sky, and lights up the Acer Sango-kaku.

On an non garden note have been thinking of Scottish holidays (which has always included garden visits - Inverewe, Arduaine, Achamore House, Logan etc.) and here are a couple of old non garden photos - 

Suliven from above Kerkaig Falls and, below, The Summer Isles from Fox Point, one of R's favourites.

Suliven is a bit of a big cobble and I am glad I do not have to strim its slopes - could be worse, could be Stac Pollaidh.

One day will get back to Assynt and Coigach but not this year.

It is 3.35 pm as I type and already getting dark - cup of tea time.

FIRST BLOG OF 2023

First blog of the year, so all the best to everyone for 2023, not much gardening going on, so wet best to stay off it, new spring in lawn by hanky tree (Davidia), pools on paths, cold (but not like USA and Canada) just wet, dark, grey, 3.5C and dismal.

How I love this time of year! Hey nonny no.

Last blog or so mentioned planting Christmas tree in garden. Our previous owner Tom did this and now they are a bit big for the living room. Our tree is a fake spruce from the attic decorated beautifully by our granddaughter.

Actually sometimes we can actually see the sun but mostly it is like today at the moment.

Though, looking at the two images, sunny and wet, there is not a lot of difference.

One of the trees blown down by storm Arwen was sawn off. I have counted the rings and there are 38 so the ash tree started growing in about 1984. It is interesting how the core of the tree has resisted the fungal invasion since this time last year.

The birds like leaves on Winterwood sing hopeful songs on dismal days etc etc except not much bird song but a buzzard mewing. If it rains any more I will have to get boots with webbed feet or something, waterproofed as well.

Last blog talked of greys - now to browns - elephant grass, miscanthus, cardoon, sedum and beech hedge.

But there are things to lift the spirits. The buds are fat on the camellias, and we have daffodils through the compost and also snowdrops.

Then there are the yellow leaves shrubs to brighten a gloomy day.

So as darkness creeps up the branches and a lazy heron flaps off from the far garden I nurse my mug of tea, both hands clasped to it to warm them as my mother did and dream that one day this winter will be done.