I wrote this post a few weeks ago for the church magazine. Little did I know but rain was about to be the least of problems for us gardeners this “Spring”! Note the inverted commas, as Spring has really started in a somewhat unusual fashion this week! When I wrote this back in February, even then I was thinking that I would probably regret this title in July/August when it’s hot, dry and the garden is looking burnt to a crisp! But right now I have virtually nothing I can write about being outside the backdoor as, so far, the story of 2018 has been rain, or more recently snow, has well and truly stopped play!
At least now it is getting lighter! And by the end of the month, the clocks will have ‘sprung forward’. No longer do the streetlights turn off as I walk to the station in the morning. This happens to me for about two or three weeks in the winter when my departure coincides precisely with the timing of the lights and always reminds me of the first Harry Potter film when Dumbledore extinguishes the streetlights so that the wizards delivering the baby Harry to his Aunt and Uncle aren’t spotted by the ‘muggles’. The evenings are lighter too. If I leave work on time, it is now light and I’ve even taken a photograph of our emerging new building glowing rosy in a sunset.
However, for most of January and February, whenever I have been available to go out into the garden, the weather has been vile. I was so optimistic on the second weekend in January when it was dry, not particularly warm but frost free. We headed outside and soon I was tugging at a horrible dead, slimy mulch of crocosmia leaves, removing them from the border and exposing the bright green shoots of bulbs as well as making the patio look cleaner and neater. I cleared more dead perennial leaves and shoots from the border and soon filled up our green bin whilst John tackled tidying up the sprawling Clematis tangutica, capturing as many of its silky seedpod heads before they spread too widely and produced a multitude of offspring.
The following weekend it was wet – very wet, and so it has continued. John has been marginally more successful in getting outside than me. He often works from home a couple of days a week and seizes the opportunity of a bit of garden tidying in his lunch hour. Having said that, we seemed to hit several weeks when the sunny days were the ones in the office and vice-versa. This also led to three slightly tetchy mini-tigers as the cats prowled indoors, expressing their frustration at not being able to get out much. Still, the other day I returned home to the declaration that the apple trees had now been pruned with a view to encouraging their fruiting spurs and on another occasion I returned from church to find the last prickly twigs of the raspberries being consigned to the rubbish heap. All it takes is one fine day. A couple of Sundays back, I returned from church to a sunny but blustery garden to discover that John has acted on my decision to remove much of our Escallonia. If ever there was a shrub that had become too big for its own good! Twiggy, dark and misshapen, something had to happen. From ten feet tall to under two feet tall in a morning! The light it has created is fantastic and now we can see the lovely Camelia beyond coming into bloom.
Ironically perhaps, but one of the jobs we need to get done is to repair our water butt connections. One of the water butts sprung a leak last year and in the early autumn we were able to empty it and John crawled inside to mend it. Unfortunately this only solved part of the problem as it transpired that the connecting pipe also needed replacing. We have the components but now we need a dry day to fix them. It’s particularly annoying as we know we are losing water and, despite the wet weather now, you can be sure that this will all suddenly change and we will soon be needing watering cans.
It’s not all doom and gloom, however. Looking on the bright side, February has treated us to a charming display of miniature Iris reticulata. These perfectly formed flowers are real jewels at this time of year. I have already spotted daffodils in flower up the road (before they got covered in snow!) and I can see giant green spikes in the border so ours are starting to emerge. What I cannot see, which is somewhat frustrating, are the tulips I planted in the autumn and I strongly suspect that the energetic squirrel chases taking place in the garden are tulip fuelled!