Life affirming Gardens

Hallelujah, winter’s all done and dusted, bar the shouting. It is so often dark and difficult and can be very lonely. But today is the vernal equinox, the official beginning of spring. From today the days are longer than the nights and things will get better and better. It’s still coolish but nothing will keep me from getting out into the garden, unless spring turns contrary and throws rain and snow and ice at me between now and summer.

WW (Wiry and Willing, to give him his full name) and I have already spent happy hours digging (him) and me standing over him and telling him what, where and how deep, and exactly which holes to hand over to me for new planting. He created more light by filling builder’s bag after bag with  hard hedge trimmings and shrub prunings, some of which I too have provided. Since I have my new secateurs pruning is so much easier. Decent tools make all the difference. WW brought his son and his son’s truck along and between the two of them they’ve shifted a mountain of greenery and taken it to the dump. And still the mountains never seem to be any less, I can’t wait for my son to come and help move stuff. 

The other evening I felt quite miserable, never having anyone to talk to and eating every meal by myself were getting to me, so I got on to my favourite garden nurseries on the net and indulged in a mad splurge. Others buy clothes and shoes, I buy plants and books. Five boxes arrived over two days, filled with two date palms, two mahonias, three hydrangeas, three cornus , a collection of lupins and some heucheras, and a honeysuckle;  apart from the date palms, which I got at a reduced price because I spent such a lot, all plants are new, unusual varieties which I have never grown before. I have dug up large flower beds and tried to weed them thoroughly before replanting, with minor success. However, lockdown has shown me how precious life is and working myself into a frenzy over weeds is not an option. Live and let live is the new motto.

For the moment the new plants look bare and boring, just you wait until they start growing. I’ll have a jungle border soon.

The tree doctor called today; for some time I have been worried about the taller and older trees around the edges of the garden. I have lost several already. There is one beautiful green/gold cypress of 30m, an ornamental cherry and a youngish (30yr old) walnut tree, all of which have had me worried every time one of the gales has blown up the river valley from over the border with Wales. Westerlies are often quite serious storms nowadays. Probably to do with climate change, they are occurring far more often than they did. Doctor Tree put my mind at rest. The cypress could be topped and reshaped but I’d lose the  pretty lacy curlicues right at the top and the tree would no longer look natural, but ‘doctored’, as it were. As he said that the tree had done the necessary to withstand gales by growing bumps around the trunk (yeah, me neither) there was little danger that it would topple over for the next 20 years. He pronounced the walnut tree healthy enough in spite of its gnarly and split bark; that left the cherry, which he thought should have the ends of its branches trimmed; a bit like taking the split ends off in a haircut. There is ash dieback all over the country; I have several ash trees which, cross fingers, still look healthy. Some ash trees are resistant to dieback, could I be one of the lucky owners? Not just ash, other trees are dying too; it’s a problem for which there is as yet no solution. Doctor Tree seemed quite worried.

I like trees and would prefer to keep mine going for as long as I am here. Apparently, you can tell if a tree comes to the end of its life by keeping a close eye on leaf growth. If leaves grow all along the branch, right to the tip, the tree is fine, once the ends stay bare there’s trouble ahead.

The work on my neighbours’ barn still hasn’t started. I think they probably haven’t been given permission. Turning the stable cum barn into a bijou residence is what is called ‘change of use’; with listed buildings the Planning Office frequently turns such requests down. I should be thoroughly ashamed of myself but, truth to tell, I don’t much care.