
The garden is in full bloom. I always
know it’s properly summer when the first of the sweet peas come out; this
flower is best stuffed into a simple bottle, leaving the flower and its sweet
smell (my all-time favourite scent) to do all the talking.
Some of the roses have gone over,
dead-headed in the hope of a second flourish next month, but new ones have
blossomed in their place: Wedding Day is rampaging through the boughs of the
apple tree, while a little, pale pink bush rose has grown taller than I am. The
Japanese anenomes are still in their tight, furry buds but it won’t be long
before they’re showing their pretty faces.
These days of sun are blissful: paddling pools and ice lollies; lazing
in hammocks and deck chairs; the sound of a lawn mower, the smell of cut grass.
And I love everything about a line of clean washing in July as it dries in the
heat, sways in the breeze, and is still warm to the touch when I change the bed
linen.
Each year in winter I forget that the
silvery, skinny stick branches of the fig tree will again provide a thick
canopy of leaves, sheltering the garden from the height of the heat and dappling
the grass with shards of sunlight. The enormous tree bears fruit: waxy globes
that change from bud to bulbous fig, but they fall to the ground in late July,
unripe. I don’t know why they fail to ripen, and it bothers me as I’d love
nothing more than a homegrown fig or two for my breakfast with Greek yoghurt
and honey. Our ancient plum tree is also in fruit, which thrills A; it’s a contrary
old thing, only deciding to produce plums every other year now, which was a
huge disappointment to both A and me last summer.
A couple of weeks ago I bought outdoor festoon lights, which now drape from wall to wall outside the back door. They
bring to life this patio passageway, whispering promises of balmy evenings
spent drinking something chilled, eating something charred,
and laughing, laughing, laughing with friends.
………………
Lou’s nature in the home (this week's theme is simple) and Annie’s how does your garden grow?