March is for Marie Curie daffodils

Daffodils  at Durham's Botanic Gardens

'Daffodils grew among the mossy stones on which some rested their heads as on a pillow, the rest tossed and reeled and danced and seemed as if they verily laughed with the wind, they looked so gay..'
                                                                                        Dorothy Wordsworth

The glory of the daffodil cannot be underestimated.

Neither can the work and dedication of Marie Curie nurses  who provide end of life care for those who need it. March is Marie Curie's major fund raising month and the Marie Curie daffodil has become associated in the public's mind with Marie Curie Cancer Care almost as much as the poppy is with Remembrance Sunday.

Promenading in Saltburn - complete with daffodils!

I am proud and delighted that the recently-formed Bishop Auckland Marie Curie Fund Raising Group have raised £3,500 from collections at local supermarkets during the month of March. This will buy 175 hours of nursing care for the people of Bishop Auckland as all money raised locally goes back into the local community.

Thank you all

Calling all angels

Every blade of grass has its Angel

That bends over it and whispers ‘Grow, grow’  

                                          The Talmud

Step inside the crocus

The lawn has had its first cut of the year and already begins to take pride in its appearance, despite still needing to have its edges trimmed and sharpened.

There is such a lot of tidying of the borders needing desperately to be done. Already the first garden bin is full to over-flowing. My back aches just thinking about it.

Narcissi

 Friend Elaine has delivered a margarine carton full of frog spawn and the blue tits have discovered the nesting box nearest the kitchen window.

The intermingled smells from the flowering daphne and winter honeysuckle combine naturally to rival the best that Jo Malone could ever produce – and all for free.

It is such a glorious time of the year - full of so much promise.

The days are lengthening and the catkins are alive to the sound of early birdsong as I know to my cost, being woken to the sound of them leaping from wardrobe to wardrobe before 6 a.m. each morning!

When in these fresh mornings I go into my garden before anyone is awake, I go for the time being into perfect  happiness. In this hour divinely fresh and still, the fair face of every flower salutes me with silent joy that fills me with infinite content, each gives me its colour, its grace, its perfume and enriches me with the consummation of its beauty.

                          Celia Thaxter An Island Garden 1894 

The glory of neighbour Robert's Van Gogh-like tree full of blossom

 

A Woman's Hardy Garden

 For female gardeners on 
International Women's Day

I always think of my sins when I weed.
They grow apace in the same way
and are harder still to get rid of.
                                                   Helena Rutherford Ely
                                                    A Woman's Hardy Garden 1903

Pablo's Garden