Colours!
Blue!
Have been preoccupied with digging out waterside ferns, the living bits of which are green, the dead bits brown. This morning, out walking the dogs round the garden, I saw huge flashes of bright red. And purple. Blue - and bright yellow? Oops - some flowering broom seedlings which have got away. Such a pretty yellow, such a naughty weedy shrub.
Enid Blyton?
It seems that a large group of colourful fairground travellers have sneaked into my garden overnight and set up camp, like characters in an old-school Enid Blyton story. There are bearded ladies (the big bearded irises), a bright red strongman (Burnaby Centennial rhododendron), a very scary fortune teller (the deep purple rhododendron in the green depths of Middle Garden).
And other impossibly bright colours, hiding amidst the greenery. Haven't seen any clowns yet, but I'm sure they're in there somewhere.
And there are subtle colours, too : the single floppy Fruhlingsgold roses, the pale rhododendrons by the water race, a solitary Monsieur Tillier blooming in the Hen-House Garden. My garden is suddenly full of all sorts of colour, while I've been fully focussed on dull green and dead brown.
First task for the day : took the shovel to an aging New Zealand Cortaderia, pulled off lots of little sprouting pieces with roots. Potted these up, and pricked out all my purple cornflowers. Almost time to plant all the orange Calendula seedlings hardening off behind the glass-house. Ha! Bright orange!
Later...
Aargh! Went into the water race near the Car Bridge to tackle the toughest, oldest ferns. Oh really? The axe wouldn't swing properly, the shovel wouldn't reach, and the bread knife simply didn't 'cut it' (hee hee). I cleared what I could - almost wobbled into the water quite a few times. Got sadder and sadder. Then lurched into a really deep part near the culvert, and water splashed into my waders. Cold legs! Wet feet! Came inside to change into dry clothes, thinking it was all too hard.
Seat By the Water Race
Ha! Spied Non-Gardening Partner, who is working from home again. Would he like to walk down the water race with his chain saw and help me? He could even borrow my waders. No response. Mention the chain-saw and NGP switches me onto mute. Blast. I will have to work on this a bit.
First thing next morning...
Tried again. Used my sweet voice. Would NGP like to look at the things he needs to chain-saw for me? What things? Humph...