Another morning in paradise...
Sitting on the patio with my pot of breakfast tea, surrounded by Compassion roses. The dogs are doing chasing circuits around the Island Bed - a great reason to have an Island bed in one's country garden design, hee hee. My garden is noisy with music.
Constance Spry and Maple
I can hear the birds squeaking, busy feeding their babies, a distant contrapuntal sheep chorus (mainly soprano lambs and contralto ewes, with the odd baritone), and one of my pheasants glissando shrieking in the ram paddock. Now the bellbirds have arrived, with their kissy lip-smacking noises. Not that birds have lips...
And a (foolish) duck has arrived in the pond with eight ducklings. This is Winnie the dog's swimming pool. And my cats are merciless hunters of any ducklings who get left behind. Right now I can hear Mother Duck squawking ostinato, which means that a cat will be waiting on the water's edge.
Buff Beauty Roses
Hello, Buff Beauty
Hello, Buff Beauty, lovely climbing hybrid musk rose, up there in the Crab-Apple Tree, next to a wine red Berberis. I hope you are being gentle with your host tree. With some embarrassment I'm remembering the Banksia lutea which last year brought down a huge old plum tree, oops.
Another morning in paradise, and three good things about today. Firstly, I made a proper pot of tea (so I can slurp while I scribble). Secondly - no singing commitments until seven this evening (it's the start of the silly singing season). And last of all it's nicely overcast, so I can work hard all day without getting hot and bothered, and I can take (yet more) successful rose photographs.
Garden. Listen up. On the early morning dog walk I noticed things. THINGS! Lawns that need mowing - yes. Edges that need trimming - yes. Weeds that need removing - naturally. There's lots more Campion, and Forget-Me-Nots, wee pretties that I'm even not supposed to mention. They need to all come out.
Nice things, too...
Nice things, too. The new Rugosas I planted in the Stumpy (AKA Willow Tree) Garden are fattening up nicely. The Kalmia, rescued and replanted, is flowering in gratitude, as are a couple of relocated rhododendrons, happy in their new location. The Oak trees are now fully leafed, and provide that rather dappled semi-shade that suits these shrubs.
The latest rhododendrons are flowering in other places, too, though for those more out in the open the sunshine is just too hot. The flowers wilt after two or three days. Oops. Sorry about that.
Grr... Three hours work, and what is the result? Three less barrow loads of Alkanet and Forget-Me-Nots, nothing else. This late spring task is never-ending. How many hours will I need to finish? What's infinity minus three? Hmm... So the plan is to keep on going. And then keep on going. In that order. Hmm...Seriously, why couldn't I finish it today, if I worked really, really, really, really hard?
Four hours later...
Well, I didn't. Finish the task, that is. But I gave it my best, which is all I have to give. And a jolly good 'best' it has been, by the way! The roses are looking even more magnificent in the late afternoon sun, and now I'm off singing.
'Only a rose to whisper, blushing as roses doooooo...'