Nature abhors a vacuum

It seems such a short while ago that I donned thermal layers to weather the cold outside and watched not very patiently for signs of growth in the garden. At last we had some warm hot weather, a tad earlier than expected while the veg patch was still in spring mode, covered in forget-me-nots and daffodils. 

It looked wonderfully frothy ... mainly because it was too early to plant anything. 

Move on a few weeks and I now have to steel myself to ruthlessly remove (some of) the flowers in order to make space for some veg. The forget-me-nots can be pulled out once they've seeded themselves (thank you May winds) but the calendula, linaria and foxgloves will be keeping the bees and pollinators happy for a bit longer. 

I did actually make a start clearing and mulching this area in late winter ... tidying the strawberries, removing some of the raspberry canes that had crept too close to the path, and digging up last year's Jerusalem artichokes (somewhat optimistically hoping that I did actually find them all). 

And having waited patiently for the gentle warmth of spring - ie keeping late March or April in mind to start sowing seeds - a tiny heatwave jump started the heat of summer and denied us any much needed April rain. The hosepipe came out, the water butts were topped up. 

The result? A veg patch of self sown forget-me-nots, calendula, linaria, foxgloves, feverfew, ox-eye daisies and a host of identifiable weeds.  And a windowsill at home full of veg waiting to be planted out. 

On the plus side, the quince tree canopy has spread providing a nice shady spot for spinach. At least, that was the plan but when I walked around the patch this morning, a small meadow seems to have sprung up in the shade of the quince. Very pretty but oops. 

It all looks rather beautiful to my mind - I absolutely adore the zingy oranges, peppermint pinks and purple hues - and love the sounds of bees making the most of this early season bounty.  I admit I've spent more hours admiring the flowers than working in this plot.  

But now it's time. The forget-me-nots are starting to seed all over the garden for next year, last year's pink chard and Cavolo kale have finished and need to be removed, as does the garlic that never bulbed up. 

And, no, I didn't get all the sunchokes out, there seems to be a fair amount of those popping up again. Oops. (But maybe not.)

Spring progress ... but not as we know it

Mid-April, even in the southern counties of the UK, can be cold, wet and windy. This year though, there have been some joyously warm days when spring has overlapped with summer and brought vibrant colour to the garden.

There’s nothing like a few days of warm sunshine to bring everything out in the garden - me, the flowers, germinating veg seeds and, of course, more seed sowing! A little garden update is due ...

Gosh.
Evening light, setting sun and ... pink.  I may have stopped breathing for a moment.

Let’s start with some colour.

Days Like These

I'm so fickle.  When snowdrops and daffodils burst into life, I declare that I love springtime. But I like to move with the times so, as the weather gets warmer and flowers and veg grow strongly, summer is my new favourite.  Autumn will always win my heart over with vibrant displays of colour.  Truth is, I just love everything about being outdoors in nature and its moments of beauty.

Walking round the 'hood in the aftermath of gale force winds and sporadic lashing rain, this is what I've been spotting this week:

Looking up ...

Big London skies above Parliament Hill Fields

And  looking down:

Who's spotting who?

I only saw the squirrel in the long grass when his bushy tail appeared as he moved. He was oblivious to people passing by as he rummaged around almost undetected but popped up to face me when he heard the camera on my phone. It was one of those moments.


Still looking down, I saw autumn in puddles … which made me think of the beauty of fallen leaves.

Every autumn I'm completely obsessed with colours and patterns as leaves turn from green through all the yellows to red. There are some great leaf shapes falling and now is a good time to go leaf collecting with children - either for making leaf mould in sacks for the garden or to collect colours and shapes for creative work.

(They call me) Mellow Yellow

(I've started my collection already … )

Ready for pressing between heavy books...

I'm totally energised by blustery and bright weather and just have to be walking outdoors - and that's when colours really start popping out at me. Even after years of knowing about the beauty berry plant (Callicarpa bodinieri), I'm still awestruck by the vivid purple of its autumn berries (bottom left).

These photos were taken over several days out but even after all this awesome loveliness, it was still thrilling to see the mind-blowing colours of the nasturtiums in the garden and one of the poppies is about to flower for the third time this year! 

I have some time off work next week so I'm hoping to get to RHS Wisley. The autumn colour there should be amazing - I'm looking forward to seeing the spindle (Euonymous europaeus) and liquidambar trees. I'd better take a bag for collecting some fallen leaves, I've a feeling there will be more days like these.

Brightening up a winter's day

Looks like it's all over.  Rain and warmer temperatures are forecast but, for now, sunshine ... and more promised for tomorrow midday in the South. It's still very chilly but most of the snow has thawed or been washed away by last night's rain - I'll be venturing out into the veg patch today to see how solid the ground is.

Golden Willow at Capel Manor lake yesterday.

Yesterday, up at Capel Manor, there was snow on the ground and the lake was still partly frozen - the fountain had prevented freezing at one end while there was thick ice at the other.  Although the class rushed quickly, shuddering with cold, to complete the plant ident walk, I went back with my camera in the lunch break. (Thick gloves and a down-filled coat kept me warm.) After weeks of white and grey, yesterday's plant walk was a treat, providing several moments of pure and unexpected colour.

Witch Hazel and Dogwood (Hamamelis mollis and Cornus sanguinea 'Midwinter Beauty')

Japanese quince (Chaenomeles x superba).

Colourful Dogwood stems (Cornus alba 'Sibirica' and C. sanguinea 'Midwinter Beauty' behind)

The Japanese quince (Chaenomeles) is an interesting shrub - an untidy twiggy dome, covered with beautiful red flowers in winter, but the fruit rotting on the ground underneath shows that it can be productive in the summer.  The fruit can be used to make quince jelly, but, as with the quince tree (Cydonia oblonga), it's not good eaten raw.  Useful if you want to brighten your garden in winter with a smallish edible shrub - it likes sun or part shade - but beware the spiny stems!

The Lenten Rose - Hellebore x hybrida.  Here growing alongside purple heathers and snowdrops.   

A Walk on the Wild-ish Side …

It seems that many people in blogland were giving a nod to the American tradition of Thanksgiving last Thursday.  I spent a part of my childhood living in the USA (Florida) so it's a day that still gives me pause for thought.

I mentioned at the time that I was off for a walk in appreciation of a beautiful sunny afternoon and winter colour on Hampstead Heath.  So an hour and a half of fresh crisp air later and what have we got?  Yup. Plenty of colour still out there!

Blue sky, Yellow leaves, Purple Hebe, White Fatsia, Green Moss, Red berries:

 

And on the way home, growing in someone's garden, a new plant to me:

 

which, thanks to the December issue of 'Gardens Illustrated', I now know is Callicarpa bodinieri.

(My photo doesn't do this plant justice; the berries are a real pop of purple and the leaves a deep, glossy green.  A real treat for colour-starved eyes!)

So what am I thankful for?  Winter sunshine, gardeners who make the world a more beautiful place, the opportunity to grow veg and flowers outside my own door, good friends to share this with, living so close to one of the great London green spaces and - of course - all of my family and friends.

Hope you also had the space and time to reflect.

Caro x