I enjoy sitting in the garden on a fine sunny day. The experience is always one of relaxation. My wife is the gardener and I am her ‘rotavator’. She knows about plants and the likes of ericaceous soil. I just like watching the birds and the bees. There’s a blackbirds’ nest full of chicks in the bay tree. Their mum and dad spend all day feeding ever-open beaks. Two lovey-dovey collar doves have their residence in the weeping willow. They preen one another, coo and whatnot. The garden fence is the runway for a pair of squirrels. Hoverflies perform miraculous antics; after hovering for a few moments, they zoom off at the speed of light, then they resume hover mode, before repeating the performance over and over again.
Well, after spending six days rotavating and destroying weeds at the bottom of the garden, today I spent most hours of daylight laying turf. Yesterday I set four laurel bushes in place, exactly where the chief gardener wanted them; they stand erect like guards guarding the lawns of Buckingham Palace. In time they will grow taller and taller to hide the ugly Nissan shed that overlooks the fence separating our garden from the adjacent flower nursery.
Gardens require care and labour if they are to be developed and transformed into personal paradises. I shall become a ‘watering can’ for the next few weeks for providing liquid refreshment to the thirsty turf and laurel plants.
Job to be done
Autumn Garden Photos
No Time for ‘Minnow’
Digging for Victory