The Guardian of the Garden

THIS is my Guardian of the Garden, who moved in on Mid-Summer's Day, after I found him in a charity shop. 

He plays his drum to scare away bad spirits and encourage the plants to grow and bloom - although it is so hot at the moment they all look a little sorry for themselves, despite the fact that I water them twice a day.

The garden is a work in progress.  It is very long and narrow, and was in a terrible mess (I have to admit, we had neglected it), so last year we created a pebbled hard-standing for the car at the end (there is access along an alley), put up new fencing and created raised beds with wooden surrounds around a lawn in the bottom third of the garden.  There is now a small vegetable patch there, beneath the elder tree, and so far this summer we have enjoyed three bowls of strawberries, with more on the way, as well as herbs - and the broad beans are flowering.

In the middle section is a path, with grey gravel either side, and a small wild-life pond, some grasses, bamboos, and silver-leaved plants, while at the top is a patio and more raised beds (edged with bricks) - where a sunny golden hop takes pride of place.

I have never taken much interest in the garden before, but since I was made redundant I have had time, and have discovered I love making things grow.  Friends have given me snippets of plants from their gardens, and I have been multiplying plants by taking cutttings and dividing roots.

It is like magic: from old plants I have brought forth new.  There are baby jasmines and honeysuckles, ivy, lots of chocolate-coloured heucheras taken from the broken roots of one gift, and two hydrangeas, 'layered' in pots beneath the overgrown bush which protected them over the winter.

All are flourishing and all were grown according to the phases of the moon though not, I hasten to add, by moonlight!

To aid me in my labours I have purchased a hose pipe on wheels, which stretches all the way down the garden; an old-fashioned push-along mower (it is a very small lawn) and a mini-greenhouse - a stack of racks covered with a plastic coat, perfect for seeds and cuttings.

Starlings, blackbirds, sparrows and thrushes visit my new bird feeder, and there are plenty of bees, butterflies and other insects on the flowers - some spinach which went to seed (I believe the correct term is bolted) proved particularly attractive, despite its insignificent blooms).

But the frog who appeared last summer has vanished.

I should have cleaned the pond out in the spring, and I should have pruned the hydrangea and the buddleia last year.  More net trellis is waiting to be fixed to the fences, to provide support for climbers,  more gravel is needed to cover the bald patches, a water feature would be nice - and I don't seem to have enough plants.

However, after years of looking at a wilderness, I begin to feel as if I have a proper garden at long last.  There is still a lot of work to be done but at least I can sit and read in my own peaceful haven.

Come into the Garden

AM staying with my mother for a few days, and as May Day dawned bright and early, showing her garden to best advantage, I ventured outside (in nightie and bare feet) while the dew was still on the grass and flowers and took some photographs.

The borders are a carpet of blooms, with this wonderful dark pink prunus dominating everything.  There are miniature narcissi, blue lobelia, primroses, cowslips, camellia, azalea, as well as red tulips, which are just 'going over'.

In addition she has masses of shrubs, all with different coloured leaves, and herbs - including the biggest rosemary bush I have ever seen.

It looked, and smelled absolutely glorious, and already there are roses, clematis, geraniums and fuchsias in bud, and trays full of busy lizzies and begonias waiting to be planted out.

Mum loves her garden and every year she grows masses of seeds for the summer.

Already it is buzzing with bees, though the butterflies have not appeared yet.  For the last few summers a mole has tunnelled his way around the garden, but he too is absent at the moment as is the frog took up residence in an old, cracked mug that once held cuttings. Mum hoped he would keep the slugs and snails at bay, but his presence seemed to make no difference to their numbers.

But there are always birds, hopping on the lawn hunting for insects or worms, splashing in the bird bath and perched on fat balls and peanuts.

There are starlings, sparrows, sparrows, greenfinches, thrushes, blackbirds, robins, bluetits, magpies, a woodpecker who is a very occasional visitor - and lots of pigeons, which seem to scare off the other wildlife.

Sadly, after such a fine beginning, the blue sky turned leaden grey, and by the evening it was raining stair-rods.

But I have my pictures to remind me of a beautiful May Day morning.

Make Time to Stand and Stare

WHY, oh why, does everything today have to be so fast? We have fast food, fast travel, fast weight loss, instant communication, instant credit, instant gardening… the list is endless.


Take food for example. What’s wrong with slow cooking? Why eat a tasteless meal heated in the microwave in just a few minutes when you could savour tasty, tender succulent stews, casseroles and soups which have simmered for hours, giving the flavours time to develop.

And what about travel? Everyone always seems determined to reach their destination in record time, whether it’s by road, rail, air or water. But why not take a more leisurely and enjoyable journey – and if you must be somewhere at a specific time then set out earlier, instead of using roads as a race track.

When I was a child (Grumpy Old Women are allowed to say that) gardens were nurtured for years. Seeds were planted, cuttings taken, compost dug in, and gradually, over time, the garden grew and flourished. But now a quick trip to the garden centre (and a lot of money) will enable you to create your new-look plot in a couple of days.

Then there is communication. Not so very long ago we all managed to survive quite adequately without being instantly accessible to all and sundry every minute of the day. We wrote letters and spoke on the phone (or landline as it has now become known). Airmail was about as fast as things got.

But computers and mobile phones have changed all that and people are no longer prepared to wait. They expect us to be there when they want us, 24 hours a day, seven days a week, 52 weeks a year, while the hi-tech equipment that makes this possible gets faster all the time.

The urge to be faster than everyone else means no-one has time to consider others, or to appreciate the world around them. Rush, rush, rush is the order of the day.

If you are walking, people push and shove to get ahead, shut doors in your face as they walk through, and bash you with bags, buggies and brollies. It seems the basic rules of courtesy have been forgotten.

On the roads the story is the same and it’s each driver for himself as they press ahead. The only thing that matters is to keep moving, whether it is their right of way or not.

Now I am not a fan of poet W H Davies, but he does strike a chord when he says:

“What is this life, if full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare?”

Travel in the slow lane and you will still reach your destination.   So ease up, look around and enjoy the journey.