It’s turned a bit drear. Wet and cold. I know I know, we need the rain but it transforms the garden into a rather bedraggled state and suddenly the roses start needing dead heading. Already! Some are yet to come out - Tuscany Superb, I mean you! Get a move on.... But Félicité et Perpétue is utterly charming in front of the window and I feel like a heel because years ago I tried to remove it. It’s actually a rambler and sends out great tentacles of stems that obscure the windows. So it was either cut it back or turn into Sleeping Beauty’s briar patch. But no matter how vicious I am with the secateurs it always flowers with its clusters of pretty pink buds and small white flowers. Smells nice too.
The birds are going frantic now. Cacophony of songs from Robin, Blackbird, White Throat, Chiff Chaff, Goldfinch etc etc. Fluttering baby sparrows and marsh tits being fed. And today I witnessed Mr and Mrs Bullfinch stuffing their crops with rosemary flower seed heads.
We went for a duty walk down the road towards Chawleigh before the next shower and were accompanied by flocks of small brown butterflies. Meadow Brown. The honeysuckle is out and there are promising quantities of bramble flower buds about to burst.
And the sun’s out again with a backdrop of dramatic sky. We have no veg so I’ve had to cut our first tiny courgettes a bit earlier than intended.
