The tulips and daffodils are blooming,
the wild flowers are blooming,
and the flowering trees and shrubs are blooming.
A blooming garden.
It requires hours of maintenance to keep the grass and ugly weeds at bay. Nigel and an acquaintance of his spent about 5.5 hours yesterday cutting grass, whacking weeds, and generally sprucing up the place. That was only a 'top and tails' job. The top acre needs to be cleared more than it is now. Although we can euphemistically say that we are allowing the land to return to a natural state, the reality is that it gets so overgrown that we cannot walk up at the top of the hill with any ease. We like to keep some paths mown in the midst of the tall grass, thorny roses, and the beautiful flowers that eventually bloom up there.
The middle acre has raspberry canes that desperately need sorting into a semblance of order. The worst part is the jetsome around my studio, including Toti, the junk-yard dog.
I think this stuff procreates during the winter, because somehow there are many more bits of wood and metal in the spring than I remember seeing in the autumn. Clearing this will be an industrial job, I think. I get no joy out of cleaning this type of mess, and it peeves me off for ages afterwards. Think I'll have to get a yard cleaner; they come in with a group of lads with big muscles and fling the stuff into a truck that takes it all away...magic. Expensive, but magic always comes with a price.
The vegetable garden will go into hibernation this year, because bindweed has taken over. Despite some attention last year, it saw its opportunity and took it. Only the garlic will remain this year. Nigel reckons he may even have to sacrifice the asparagas. Sigh.
But in the midst of all that mayhem, we have plenty of water in the well,
we have blooming flowers,
and Nigel is having a wonderful holiday at home, putting order into the acrage.
All of that gives me pleasure.
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