A wilderness is a wild, natural area, where nature has been left to get on with what nature does best. But I'm a bit of a romantic, so I imagine a romantic place, inspiring, evocative, maybe a bit mysterious. A place where leaves can be left where they've fallen, seedlings be allowed to grow, paths allowed to become nicely overgrown.

 Enjoying a wee break.
Me by the Hump Garden

But I must stop using the 'wilderness' word to justify my garden laziness. I have officially designated wilderness areas in my garden, which I ignore for weeks, months, years. Such areas are simply 'messinesses', and I need to sort them out. Gardens don't necessarily need cosmetic faces - as in older lady gardeners, freckles, wrinkles, and blotches all add personality - but some level of nurturing needs to be obvious. Layers of night cream, perhaps?

A great start...

I'm writing this at dusk, sipping a glass of the House Merlot. I'm sitting at the patio table, the sun slowly sinking behind the Tilia tree, twirling my pencil, trying to psych myself into a proper clean-up of the Hump. I've made a great start. I've cleaned up the strip nearest to the Driveway Lawn. And now, thanks to my efforts, the garden behind the Shrubbery is not a wilderness any more. Nor is it a messiness. I love it! The paths are done, Agapanthus shifted in, trailer loads of rubbish burnt. A line of logs signifies the end of the garden area, and I've started spreading rotted horse manure therein, to encourage the self-sown Pittosporums.

 Much better!
The Back of the Shrubbery

Today I moved some more Agapanthus, raked some more mess out, and shifted the large brown garden tea-pot in. Looking good, looking good...

Tuesday 20th March

I had to take my car into a mechanic in town, so my morning was spent swimming and visiting charity shops. Back home mid-afternoon I thought I'd relax on the purple seat by the Hump with two quiet dogs, a book, and a cup of tea. Aargh! First the dogs had a barking contest, then the mosquitoes arrived. One even had the nerve (and strength) to bite through my jeans. So rude! So I barrowed in more bags of horse manure. And I 'dealt to' some creeping grass problems. Enough said.

 So useful.
Lamium in the Hump

I love the Periwinkle and the Lamium ground covers which do so much to make this woody area attractive. I don't care if they're weedy - they do the business. And I love my paths, though photographs of them all look the same. A path winding its way through the greenery, minding its own business...

 A bit blurry - Minimus was sharpening her claws...

Worms turning...

Ended the day with Minimus arriving to say hello. Poor Pebbles the dog, totally spooked by my little grey cottage cat, withdrew to sit on the front lawn. 'What goes around comes around' is what I'd say to you, Pebbles. I remember you chasing black Buster down the driveway. Well, well, well. Something about how the worm has turned seems appropriate here (and the horse manure I've been spreading is full of lovely wriggling worms).

Look, to be honest, the Hump clean-up isn't finished. But it's a lot more finished than it was a few days ago, hee hee. It's almost evocative, inspiring, and romantic, even!