A happy garden?
Camellia By The House
So it's rained for a couple of days. And the spring garden looks so happy after rain. But surely it's me, the gardener, who is happy? The garden, as always, passively accepts the weather thrown down upon it. Happiness is a human concept, right?
Happy in the garden...
Non-Gardening Partner reckons I'm always happy in my garden. But today I'm extra happy because I've already planted my new roses and shrubs in the Hump Garden, and the rain will help them settle in. I've also laid newspaper and mulch to extend the Pond Paddock garden. These layers love to get a bit soggy. Not that layers of organic matter have emotions...
Happy with the Camellias
I'm happy with the Camellias this year. The early ones have had a grand time flowering, and now the mid-to-late ones are bursting out of their buds. As soon as the rain stops I'll do the rounds with some horse manure, to thank them for their generosity. Not that Camellias have such character traits...
Fred on the Garden
Even happy with weeding!
I'm very happy with my spring weeding progress, too. I am doing my best, almost every day. There are so many Parachute weeds (AKA Shepherd's Needles) in the gardens - but they're also dotted here, there, and everywhere in the lawns. Every time I walk past a patch I stop, bend over, and gently pull them out. It doesn't hurt a bit!
So we've established that I'm happy with my spring garden, and of course I'm happy with my furry friends. I love my dogs (even though they are naughty and often won't listen to me). I love my cats (beautiful black Buster, Minimus my cottage cat, and the two young Fred tabbies). I'm happy with my musical life - preparing for two concerts, poles apart. Playing piano for a Joni Mitchell singer, and singing alto in a concert performance of Haydn's Creation Mass. Have to roll my r's and hit a decent E-flat when required. Joni Mitchell's song 'Blue', however, is very slow to grow on me. Hmm...
But.... I'm not so happy with lambing. Not happy at all. I've just taken the dogs for a wet walk around the orchard to check on the sheep and lambs. Not good news. Have decided I don't want any lambs next year. Not happy with the concept of survival of the fittest.
At a quick glance that phrase looks like 'survival of the fattest'. Hmm, she says, wondering when next to hop on the scales. End of September, I reckon, and I'm happy anyway that my favourite gardening jeans are looser. Both Non-Gardening Partner and I are trying to eat sensibly and healthily - and not be greedy. I'm also trying to be organic, source local produce (except bananas), eat more vegetables, and minimise my use of plastic. Trying to do my best, I am.
And most of all I'm very, very happy with spring, and all those lovely spring cliches - freshness, new life unfurling, new promises, and so on. And the new colours, both bright and subtle - pink and red rhododendrons flowering, the lime greens and pale yellows, the blues from the the little forget-me-nots and muscari. Yeay!
Think of the bees and plant a Prunus blossom tree.-Moosey words of wisdom.
And there's more! The first of the large flowering cherry trees is humming. It's covered in blossom, just opened, and abuzz with honey bees. Think of the bees and plant a Prunus blossom tree? I must remember that!
Blossom Tree Full of Bees