And the days go short when we reach September

So sang Sinatra in September Song and it’s certainly true.

The long light nights giving opportunities for reading or working in Pablo’s garden until late evening have now gone, compensated for by the ethereal light cast by the  harvest moon – which always reminds me of late artist and friend, Tom McGuinness, whose night time scenes were always illuminated by the glow from a McGuinness Moon.

 

Lucifer crocosmia

There is still lots of colour both to be seen and to look forward to in the autumn garden as, ironically, the hot area of the colour wheel is in the ascendancy – oranges, yellows and flaming red – Nature’s own bonfire which, with perfect timing, will burn itself out around 5^th November.

My song is half a sigh

Because my green leaves die;

Sweet are my fruits, but all my leaves are dying;

And well may Autumn sigh…

   From September by Christina Rossetti (1830 – 1894)

Don’t be too downhearted by Christina’s usual doleful verse. 

Bronze fennel and  apple mint

In Pablo’s garden we’ve still got Nature’s fruitful bounty to look forward to – the harvesting of apples and pears; the gathering of seeds for drying and growing on next year; dividing and replanting  perennials ; indulging in the produce from the greenhouse including the delights of jam and chutney making and the optimistic buying and planting of spring bulbs.

Keep gardening but, more importantly, as my grandfather always signed off his letters to me -

Keep smiling!

Sing a song of seasons!

Sing a song of seasons!

Something bright in all!

Flowers in the Summer

Fires in the fall.

                      R.L. Stevenson

The wettest summer since 1912 and as I write, the coldest August night on record. I went to open the greenhouse first thing and the lawn was sparkling in the early morning sun. It appeared almost as if there had been a frost overnight – perhaps there had. Anything seems to be possible in this quirky summer.

Some plants are thriving – see the gunnera in Durham’s Botanic Gardens for example. Originally from Brazil, it thrives in damp conditions and the huge, umbrella-like leaves, followed by large flower spikes, are a potential wonder to behold, whereas, sadly, the leaves on some of the trees there are already beginning to turn a lighter green - signalling an early autumn. 

Passion flower

But, amazingly, the passion flower in Pablo’s garden is still in flower, despite being of a delicate disposition. Curiously also hailing from Brazil, it is so named because discoverers of this exotic plant likened its parts to representations of the crucifixion, particularly the central column resembling the pillar of the cross. The flower was said to remain in bloom for three days to symbolise the three years of Christ’s ministry, but in reality each flower only lasts for one day.

Shade under the old apple tree

The left hand side of the garden still has gaps for yet more and different plants but is showing pleasing colour. Even my despised geraniums are welcomed now for they add pleasing daubs to the back of the shady border. 

Pablo disgruntled at waiting forever for the sun to shine

A massive autumn garden tidy is called for but as the weather people are predicting an Indian summer, prior to the worst winter since the Thames froze over in the 1600s, I plan to decamp to the summer house and enjoy the autumn sunshine - glass of wine in hand and Pablo on knee of course.

Cheers!

Painting with flowers

Playing with colour and form in the garden is the nearest that most of us will get to painting.

                                                                     Mary Keen 1991

Prairie planting at the Floriade

Hanging basket with gloriously harmonious colours

Garden designer, writer and painter, Gertrude Jekyll was a phenomenon. A dumpy little woman, she towered over other garden writers of the twentieth century. Though her eyesight was poor, she was able to distinguish between different shades of colour in borders and knew exactly which plants would give the exact result she wanted in the 150 or so gardens she designed during her lifetime.

 

Using specialist garden books – especially those of the Royal Horticultural Society – it is relatively easy today to find a plant of the exact shade and habit that would suit the prevailing conditions, but inspirational gardeners, like true artists,  understand the conventions yet instinctively break the rules to achieve a particular effect. 

Grasses in Pablo's garden appear almost ghostly in the evening light

Christopher Lloyd of Great Dixter fame was such an artist/gardener. His planting schemes, with their outrageous use of controversial colours, revolutionised planting schemes in the 80s and 90s and his ideas continue to influence many of today’s garden designers and plantsmen and women. 

Do visit Great Dixter if you get the opportunity.

I guarantee you will be both delighted and inspired. 

V.I.P.

Today is Pablo’s ‘coming of age’ – his 18^th birthday!

Glynn and Pablo

He arrived here in a cardboard box, having been abandoned near my husband’s school at Ferryhill. The schoolchildren who discovered the black and white kitten promised to return to collect him at the end of the school day but failed to do so.

Throughout the day I’d had regular bulletins as to his misdemeanours which included disgracing himself on a then very expensive Adidas sweatshirt. Said shirt had been confiscated as being ‘non-uniform’ and left in a heap on the floor of my headmaster husband’s office.

The domestic science staff helpfully laundered the offending sweatshirt but failed to return it to its pristine state, so much so that the next day an irate parent demanded full reimbursement. The school had to make a claim via Durham County Council’s insurance and, for the first time ever, a cat was named as the perpetrator of an ‘offence against property'.

Pablo has informed me that he is sure his many fans will be interested to hear more of his adventures and he promises further tails to follow…

Happy Birthday Pablo Cat.

August is a wicked month

Vase of July flowers

 So wrote Edna O’Brien many years ago but July wasn’t especially good either, weather-wise at least. Many of the garden plants had been so battered by wind and rain that their full potential wasn’t appreciated as it should have been.

Philadelphus

It was warmer, however, and July in Pablo’s garden was most notable for the gorgeous scents that pervaded the air; in particular the philadelphus or mock orange whose heady perfume was better than anything Jo Malone has produced so far.

A shady spot for reflection

Similarly the honeysuckle, or woodbine, which is best enjoyed at night when it is at its most intoxicating, deliberately so to attract moths which pollinate the flowers. 

It was wonderful to be able to sit in the garden and reflect on the delights yet to enjoy in August and to look forward to adding autumn colour with a visit to my favourite nursery at Egglestone Hall. En route I had an interesting visit to Blue Gentian Crafts to select a new bench for Pablo’s garden, of which more later.

Yellow loosestrife

Frocks of silk

We are slumberous poppies,
Lords of Lethe downs ...

Poppies for remembrance

 The poppy is the flower of sleep and oblivion. According to Greek legend it was created by the god of sleep, Somnus, to soothe Ceres, the corn goddess, to sleep. When she had rested the corn grew again, giving rise to the belief that poppies are essential for the welfare of the corn. 

Poppy seeds can lie dormant for years and are often stimulated to germinate once the soil is disturbed. Hence the subsequent blooming of poppies on the battlefields of Flanders and why they became the symbol of remembrance for those killed in war.

Frocks of silk

The poppies in the garden, they all wear frocks of silk,

Some are purple, some are pink, and others white as milk,

Light, light, for dancing in, for dancing when the breeze

Plays a little two-step for the blossoms  and the  bees.

Fine, fine for dancing in, all frilly at the hem,

Oh, when I watch the poppies dance I long to dance like them!

The poppies in the garden have let their silk frocks fall

All about the garden paths, but where are they at all?

Here a frill and there a flounce – a rag of silky red,

But not a poppy-girl is left – I think they’ve gone to bed.

Gone to bed and gone to sleep; and weary they must be

For each has left her box of dreams upon the stem for me.

                                                                                    Ffrida Wolfe

An apple a day

but only after 15^th July…

Today is St. Swithin’s Day, a day associated with the weather and the ripening of apples.  His remains were moved from their original resting place to Winchester Cathedral on 15^th July in 971 AD. According  to legend, the saint so resented being moved that he began to weep, causing heavy rain to fall for the next 40 days.

Hence, a shower of rain on St. Swithin’s Day was said to be the saint christening the apples and in some rural areas no one would eat an apple until after 15^th July.

St. Swithin’s Day, if thou dost rain

For forty days it will remain.

St. Swithin’s Day, if thou be fair

For forty days, ‘twill rain no mair.

The good news is that it stayed fine here the whole day.

Hopefully summer is on the way at last.