My very first day back in the garden this year. I've loved it.
Okay, I have been out a few times, tweaked the pots, tidied the decking and brought in the wood but there's been no proper working up a sweat and enjoying the sun on my back. Well, there has been no sun to speak of, just that pale, winter globe that leaks a ghostly glow across the sky but refuses to produce shadows (or isn't strong enough to make any).
I had a long day yesterday, getting in from work at 8.30pm so today I finished at lunchtime and enjoyed a beautiful afternoon in the garden. I could have chosen to stay indoors and cook dinner or remove old paint from the stairway but I really wanted to be outdoors with those girls. I decided if I was out there with them there would be safety in numbers and I wouldn't be concerned about foxes.
So, whilst those feathered ladies went under the Acer (which is our feeding post for all manner of wild birds) to collect stray nuts and seed that the tits, sparrows, finches and woodpecker have dropped on the ground.
Some meowing from the skies alerted me to the glorious pale Buzzards, gliding effortlessly on the breeze so close to our garden but high, high up in the blue of the sky..
There is so much to do, sleeping plants are reawakening; busy bulbs are putting all their effort into pushing through cold, hard earth. I don't want to disturb any that I have yet to see (I've done that too many times in the past) so my choices are, digging over the vegetable patch or the herb garden.
I decided to go large and chose the vegetable patch. Rows of deep digging; each forkful unearthing fat worms that weren't expecting to see the light of day today. Working backwards so I didn't compact the newly turned soil I spent two hours digging alone before the nosey hens realised there were rich pickings to be had and hopped over to pull worms out of their darkness again.
I've taken some photographs and feel as proud as punch to see the veg patch looking ready for planting again. I pulled up a bucketful of weeds and now all that is left is the thick blanket of emerald parsley, untouched by last week's frost, the purple sprouting (still looking too gorgeous to use for anything but aesthetics), the ornamental cabbages, now long and leggy with punk hairstyles of vivid purple fringed leaves, a few straggly broad beans and the overwintering onion sets which are still no wider than blades of grass. I did pull two up by mistake but have pushed them quickly back in with the hope that they won't be too worse for their premature pulling.
Having finished the patch I enjoyed a minute just looking up at the enormous old oak, basked in a golden light of late afternoon. Five minutes later, when I glanced back up, the magic had gone and the tree was silhouetted against the darkening sky.
Putting the chickens back into their run with a pot of yogurt and some seeds I knocked and scraped off the soil from my shoes and came back indoors, taking just a few photos before the light went. I love to garden.
Okay, I have been out a few times, tweaked the pots, tidied the decking and brought in the wood but there's been no proper working up a sweat and enjoying the sun on my back. Well, there has been no sun to speak of, just that pale, winter globe that leaks a ghostly glow across the sky but refuses to produce shadows (or isn't strong enough to make any).
I had a long day yesterday, getting in from work at 8.30pm so today I finished at lunchtime and enjoyed a beautiful afternoon in the garden. I could have chosen to stay indoors and cook dinner or remove old paint from the stairway but I really wanted to be outdoors with those girls. I decided if I was out there with them there would be safety in numbers and I wouldn't be concerned about foxes.
So, whilst those feathered ladies went under the Acer (which is our feeding post for all manner of wild birds) to collect stray nuts and seed that the tits, sparrows, finches and woodpecker have dropped on the ground.
Some meowing from the skies alerted me to the glorious pale Buzzards, gliding effortlessly on the breeze so close to our garden but high, high up in the blue of the sky..
There is so much to do, sleeping plants are reawakening; busy bulbs are putting all their effort into pushing through cold, hard earth. I don't want to disturb any that I have yet to see (I've done that too many times in the past) so my choices are, digging over the vegetable patch or the herb garden.
I decided to go large and chose the vegetable patch. Rows of deep digging; each forkful unearthing fat worms that weren't expecting to see the light of day today. Working backwards so I didn't compact the newly turned soil I spent two hours digging alone before the nosey hens realised there were rich pickings to be had and hopped over to pull worms out of their darkness again.
I've taken some photographs and feel as proud as punch to see the veg patch looking ready for planting again. I pulled up a bucketful of weeds and now all that is left is the thick blanket of emerald parsley, untouched by last week's frost, the purple sprouting (still looking too gorgeous to use for anything but aesthetics), the ornamental cabbages, now long and leggy with punk hairstyles of vivid purple fringed leaves, a few straggly broad beans and the overwintering onion sets which are still no wider than blades of grass. I did pull two up by mistake but have pushed them quickly back in with the hope that they won't be too worse for their premature pulling.
Having finished the patch I enjoyed a minute just looking up at the enormous old oak, basked in a golden light of late afternoon. Five minutes later, when I glanced back up, the magic had gone and the tree was silhouetted against the darkening sky.
Putting the chickens back into their run with a pot of yogurt and some seeds I knocked and scraped off the soil from my shoes and came back indoors, taking just a few photos before the light went. I love to garden.
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