Notes From My Garden
Vibrant beauty, unexpected discoveries and magical encounters
I’m on a quest for a life closer to nature by taking walks, gardening (and rewilding our garden), paying attention to the seasons and all kinds of weather more, enjoying different landscapes, watching animals, noticing small and delightful details, reading all kinds of books about nature. I enjoy it so much!
May is especially beautiful, isn’t it? Everything is growing like there’s no tomorrow, everything is blooming and flourishing in abundance. (Apart from our box tree hedge, which is harbouring a nasty concentration of box tree moth larvae.)
Our garden never fails to amaze me.
The beauty of alliums
It’s the first year we’ve got alliums and I’m very much in love with their beauty, colour and structure, their swaying in the wind - and their attraction to all kinds of buzzing visitors. I just can’t get enough of them. They have such a presence.
I spent a very happy afternoon watching bees visiting the alliums. Such a peaceful time.
I have a soft spot for purple flowers in all shades, can you tell?
So have bees. Watching them how they visited bellflower after bellflower was something I did several days in a row, crouched on my knees, my face close to the blossoms and the bees. That took my mind off things and helped me to calm down. Highly recommended, it’s such a joy!
A talking cat
Although we can’t share our home with a cat (damn allergies!), I enjoy feline visitors to our garden all the more. And they enjoy our catnip (that I strategically planted next to the known cat walk).
That walk leads from the corner of the house, under the cherry laurel and diagonally across the patio to a stop at said catnip for a short sniff or a longer delight. The cats saunter on to take a sip from the bird bath and a long hard look up the corkskrew hazel if there are any careless birds to catch. (No way!) The cats enjoy the shadow under the hazel, resting like lions on the savannah before they move on, cross the lawn to reach the corner of the garden shed, where another stop is compulsory. Looking left through the shrubs and the fence to the neighbours. Then walking the length of the shed and behind it to jump over the fence at the end of the garden. When they return, it’s the exact same way back.
To be clear, it’s just one cat now. ‘E.T. is on patrol’, we say. At least three times a day. It’s his turf now, after having outrivalled the other cats. He’s the king of the grounds. And we are tolerated. (That’s fine.)
The other day, when I was hanging out the laundry, I noticed E.T. lying flat on the lawn to the right of the garden shed, lurking, every fibre of his body tense. Something clearly had sparked his interest, or rather his hunting instinct.
Suddenly there was a huge clamour from the magpies in the maple tree, which startled him and drove him away. Fast.
I squatted down and lured him in my direction to the patio.
He came running towards me and meowed repeatedly as if he wanted to tell me something. To complain. Or to tell me how much he was startled. And how unfair life was.
To each meow I replied, ‘Yes, I know, did they get you?’
We had a small talk. It was so funny. So unexpected.
E.T. doesn't come close, he’s quite reserved, no chance ever that he would let me stroke him, so of course he turned off just before me, inspected our garden chairs as if he never had intended anything else, retreated with feline dignity and then disappeared round the corner of the house on his usual route.
I was happy nontheless. E.T. had never spoken to me before.
The satisfying feeling of sowing
I do most of my gardening without gloves. There is nothing better than the feeling of soil between my fingers.
I’m kind of late this year, but I’ve finally got round to buying flower seeds and plants for some terracotta pots.
I’ve sown sunflowers for the first time, having found a spot which they might like. Above all, however, I have sown foxglove and flower mixtures (bee and butterfly pasture, annual and biennial) in beds and pots. I put the pots close to the bee hotel. Let’s see if it all works out.
To my surprise many seeds have already sprouted and are growing rapidly. The warm and light, but steady rain that had taken over from my efforts of carefully watering the seeds must have helped. I’m pretty delighted because although I love plants, I don’t have green fingers. Well, this year I might have had help.
No Mow May
Where others have a perfectly tended lawn, we have lots of different grasses, also beautiful patches of red sorrel and delightful bright yellow patches of dandelions. Moss dominates the “lawn” on the Northern side of the house.
The grasses are now knee-high. We don’t mow in May - and as rarely as possible during the rest of the year.
I’m not a fan of lawn. It looks man-made and it is. I like it wilder. More natural.
How beautiful so-called weeds can be if you look closely. I’ve never given red sorrel a second glace, but this year I fell in love with it.
Fascinating insects
The more I reconnect with nature, the more I notice, sometimes species I’ve never seen before.
In May, there was a mottled shieldbug (Rhaphigaster nebulosa) on my drying rack, and I had to take a picture to identify the bug instead of folding towels, of course. First things first!
A narcissus bulb fly (Merodon equestris) clinged to a daffodil stem for hours one afternoon, and I had ample time to watch it closely. I was really impressed by its eyes, it looked like it was wearing huge sunglasses.
A Silpha tristis found its way through the open window into our bathroom. It’s a carrion beetle, and a sad one apparently, given its name. (Are there others, I wonder? Happy ones? Proud ones?) I wanted to help it outside again as soon as possible instead of rushing to get my smartphone to take a picture. (Sorry, priorities!)
The box tree moths are not so much fun. Hundreds of larvae are munching happily away and feast on our box tree hedge in front of the house as we speak. There’s not much you can do about it. Maybe advertising it as an all-you-can-eat buffet. My husband has seen sparrows and tits feasting on the larvae on the box trees next door. So maybe we should do more advertising.
The box trees won’t make it. The moths however will. It’s nature.
I’m already thinking about replacement. I didn’t particularly like the box trees anyway. They were there when we moved in, they were practical. I’d like to take the chance to replace it with a flowering hedge.
So, bon appetit!
A Magical Moment
When the sun is up
and the rain comes down
just
lightly
while the world is still
quiet
a fine line is drawn
between
rain and dry
the sole soul
witnessing
the moment’s beauty
with me
being part of it
is the heron
hunched on the roof
time stands still.
29th May
I'm sitting on the patio again this morning, in between showers, watching clouds, listening to blackbirds, sparrows and tits, enjoying a hot marzipan cocoa (my special treat!) and a quiet, peaceful half hour outside. The alliums sway in the wind, the maple leaves rustle. Rain starts again and then the robin. It sings the loudest song of all. Such a small bird, such a presence!
Life is good!
Thank you so much for being here and following my journey!
What have you enjoyed in nature this month? I’d love to hear about it!
Curious about more nature diary posts? Read on …
I love the purple and green together too. Living on a boat means we're restricted in terms of plants, but we've got rosemary and thyme growing in pots on the roof of the boat, plus a large round pot of purple plants 🪴 💜 😀
Beautiful photos; the alliums have been especially spectacular this year 🌸