THE BONFIRE OF THE INANITIES

I have finally attacked the apple tree and removed the big central stem to open out the structure. It looks a little sad now but at least I will be able to reach the fruit without falling off a ladder.

On the way to town a child, I think, has put seedlings by the road with an honesty box so I bought some broad beans and they are now in the veg bed covered in netting to ward of the pesky pigeons.

We have our first daffs to go along with the snowdrops and crocuses. There are also flowers coming on the quince and the flowering currant.

The weather has been more or less dry and warm till Tuesday when we had a hard freezing fog.

I am a bit battle scarred from - 1. trying and failing to light the bonfire (I could have used petrol but am averse to explosions), 2. grabbing a rooted bramble by mistake and scratching my hand, 3. bending to get a log for the wood burner and touching the fire with my forehead and 4. I have one of those annoying little ulcers on the tip of my tongue.

That's better, had a good moan.

I have kept the squirrels at bay from the feeder and the birds seem to appreciate that. 

Down by the pond the mallard drake has started to put in an appearance. No sign of the duck yet. Both of us have been dragging excess weed from the water.

S the gardener has been, sawn up the applewood for our fire and pruned back much of the buddleia.
I have plenty of things for him to do, not least improving the drainage in the lower garden.

All in all the wintry edge is easing away from the garden, marching on into spring.

I mentioned the bonfire before, here it is at the far end of the garden and the more we prune the bigger it gets. R planted these snowdrops and later this part of the wood will be a carpet of bluebells. The wispy twigs are actually self sown hazels. There is also a self sown beech.

 

And at that far end is the old tip from the previous owner including this rusty engine. Too heavy for me to move. 

At the very top of the wood where I sometimes sit there is what, I suppose, is just a clearing.

It is up here where there are yet more new springs and a burgeoning carpet of primroses. The stream leads down to the white birches.

This rhododendron is one of three small plants we bought when staying at Stonefield Castle in Argyll some years ago. 

I expect them to get huge one day but perhaps not in my time. 

The leaves have a similar colour, especially on the back, as the magnolia grandiflora.

We also have the dreaded rhododendron ponticum which I should really get rid of - at least it is in control at the moment.

We also have a small very heavily scented rhododendron we bought from garden near Matlock several years ago. I keep trying to layer it but not much success so far.

Our purple sprouting broccoli is big but there are no sign of any heads yet, we wait in hope.

It is a pity we do not eat the crocuses. Saffron comes from a different plant.

We have our first flower on one of the camellias, many more to come.

Given up trying to light the bonfire - sprayed it with a load of white spirit (safer than petrol) and up it went with a whoosh, then down it went with an whimper and went out. Yes, I give up.

WINTER'S LAST GASP?

Sometimes little things make a difference - the return of the mallard pair to the pond or R's sighting of a tree creeper out of the bathroom window - the bird going up of course, not down - that would be a nuthatch.

At the top fence there is an old ash tree festooned in ivy with a Rambling Rector rose climbing its branches. It is also a sanctuary for pests like tis grey squirrel.

Other trees are stirring, catkins on the hazel and the first leaves on the elder. Buds on the lilacs and cherries are fattening ready for blossom.

Down in the veg beds the rhubarb is stirring and the forcing pot has been positioned for early stems. 

Chives are pushing through with their slender green fingers.

So, flowers - now we have primroses and snowdrops all over the place.

and crocuses when the sun shines.

And quietly, stealthily, the bluebell leaves are pushing through the woodland floor promising a glory of blue in late April, early May.

In the flowerbeds too there are some surprises - the Euphorbia characias ssp. Wulfenii on the right and the leaves of the cardoon on the right

I have raked out the dead growth on the piece of lower banking where I tend to dump plants I cannot think of where to put - perhaps as they grow something'll spring to mind - there must be a place for crocosmia Lucifer and the acanthus?

Finally two photos of the winter garden as tomorrow the weather men say is the start of meteorological spring.

ps. I have wired the bird feeder lid shut and the squirrels are defeated (for now). All they can do is join the chaffinches and pheasants foraging underneath for dropped offerings.

Happy birthday Roland.

SPRING IS SPRUNG?

Not quite yet, the grass is not yet riz - but one friend, P, says he has given his lawn a first mow.

First I have to get my mowers serviced - if they ever come and collect them.

Come Sunday and in the morning we walk into a gale force freezing wind on the shore beside frozen sea water. By the afternoon it is raining and warmer.

At least we are not having what is happening in the southern USA around Texas - very cold.

We have flowers - primroses, iris, hellebores and, of course, the odd snowdrop.

And then there is the bird feeder problem - called squirrels - 3 of them plus, this morning, rabbits and pheasants waiting for falling seed.

I put up a so-called squirrel proof feeder with a wire mesh around - but the crafty rodent just went to the top and opened the lid. So I tightened the lid so it was very hard to open - but it just flipped it back and feasted. 

Now the lid is wired shut and we will see how it works that out.

Underneath the chaffinches and a dunnock search the flower bed and paving for seed.

Back in the house we are submerged in aloes. I lifted one pot and the container it was in was full of shoots grown through the bottom of the pot. Now have 5 on the utility windowsill.

Everything looks so much tidier for a good spread of mulch. Which brings me to a find - I was spreading compost, collected in 2019, when something shiny caught my eye - it was a potato peeler. obviously dumped in the compost bin with the peelings.

Out in the garden I have pruned back the yellow buddleia and taken four cuttings. There are now in the cutting bed. I have finished mulching the blackcurrants and removed any errant raspberry canes. The dead sweet peas have been cut back and the not dead parsley has had five plants transplanted nearer the house.

The birds are starting to sing with the song thrush belting its repetition from the big sycamore.

But not all things beautiful are large - the moss on the roof of the mowing shed roof is in full sporangia if that is the right expression, its fruiting bodies highlighted in the sun. sometimes one has to do the Blake thing and peer into a small flower to see its glory.

Saturday starts wet but later I go out and do a bit of tidying. I bring in the trail camera but all I have are chaffinches, pheasants and wood mice.

The Covid restrictions are starting to weigh heavily - fed up.

Last poetry zoom they asked for something more cheerful from me, perhaps a garden poem so here goes - 

I WAS IN THE GARDEN

I was in the garden, dawn rising,

Walked the moss-scraped hoggin 

To the wood. A dunnock scratted

In the litter, a thrush turned leaves.

The only song, if you can call it that,

Was the drone of a collared dove.

There had been snow, a light cover,

Enough to show the straight line of prints 

Where the fox trod, squirrel pairs 

And the two one one of a rabbit.

Snowdrops under snow were white in white,

One startled primrose hinted at spring. 

At the top of the wood, on the far grass,

Was an old gatepost laid on log legs.

It was damp. I put down yesterday's paper,

Sat and stared out through the sycamores,

Across the fields, across the sands 

Of Morecambe Bay to hummocked Bowland.

Our wintry garden was neglected,

Weeds thrived, brambles threw shoots

Through the dead tangle of woodland floor,

Small bluebell leaves lanced the leaf litter.

A wren, high-sterned like a galleon,

Thundered from an elder, all cannons blazing.

There was an expectation in the air,

So much to be decided, done, dug,

Compost heaps to turn, muck to spread.

I strode through early midges

Caught in the rising sun, kicked dew

From the grass, set about the day.

AN EVEN COLDER COMING

 Last blog I said that it was cold but it has got colder. I had vague hopes of sweet peas and parsley surviving the winter but not now. R has even let me put on the central heating in there daytime. She has just admitted she has on six or seven layers of clothing and is still a bit cold.

Then the boiler started leaking. So a cold night until we were rescued.

Enough, the trellis by the shed that supports the red climbing rose and the lonicera halliana is going rotten. I have fixed a temporary support by ramming a long piece of wood into its structure but it will have to be mended. Anyway I have pruned the rose. R continues to tend her snowdrops.

The pond is frozen over now though this image shows an area that tends to stay water - I think it is where a drain from the house enters the pond.

The sunrises are getting spectacular, here a chilled rook waiting for the horse ladies next door to scatter some seed.

Nevertheless there are signs of hope - our first crocuses, tulips in pots sprouting forth and, of course, the snowdrops.

The garden, albeit sunny, does look rather bare at this time of year. A sea of old manure with the odd plant protruding through the surface is a fair description. The ground is hard so no digging for now.

S has been and cut back hard the big privet at the back of the house. One thinks of privet as a low hedging, edging plant but this has a stool almost three feet across.

I have sneaked another bird feeder onto the cherry outside the big windows but when I went to the shed for the seed I found the bottom of the plastic bottle I keep it in had a large hole in it - mice!

The woodland is just stirring and sunlight highlights the moss and ferns - this is a cheat, not our woody area but Sea Wood, a Woodland Trust place.

  

 

At Christmas we gave my brother and his wife an amaryllis - and they gave us one! This is it.

 

We do not have a lot of statues and stuff but this small boy sits freezing up by the snowdrops. Moss is now growing over him.

The winter delivery of logs has arrived and are stacked in the log shed. They will need to dry through the summer but if we get too cold and run out then needs must.

I have shot out in the freezing cold and tried to light the bonfire but failed. I have also pruned the buddleias outside the kitchen window and suddenly we can see the snowdrops properly.

When the pond is like a rock there is only one place to be - beside this.

Anyway, the weather forecast is for snow later today and then warmer, wetter weather coming in from the west. 

We wait.