Evening primrose – derrickjknight

Shifting Light

This morning my gardening occupations combined dead heading and making photographs.

These roses Summer Wine and Altissimo, both coming again, were too high for me to reach with hand secateurs, and I couldn’t be bothered to fetch the steps.

Bigifying will probably be necessary to appreciate these bees on bidens, on Japanese anemones, and coming to land on crocosmia. Just click on any image to access the gallery and enlarge further with clicks on the ‘view full size’ box underneath and again if required. The bees swarming the Japanese anemones must be welcoming the plants’ early blooming.

Crocosmia blend well with other plants such as these bell-like alliums and the Japanese maple with its fingers singed by recent violent winds.

From beside this latter crocosmia I was able, through the maple, to view the petunias and pelargoniums featured alongside the kitchen wall.

We haven’t identified all the clematises in the garden. The first of this triptych above, for example, is a Lidl unnamed purchase; we do know that it is Niobe who shares the arch with the fuchsia, Chequerboard; the Head Gardener was determined to track down ‘clematis viticella purpurea plena elegans’, which took her some time, because when we arrived seven years ago this then weakly specimen was ailing in the rubble jungle that we eventually turned into the Rose Garden – it was fostered out in another bed until we returned it to its native soil, and has taken three years to reach the top of its supporting beam.

One of these yellow evening primrose blooms has survived the night well; this phantom hydrangea is also a survivor – it is the plant after which the eponymous path is named – first planted on one side of the Phantom Path it was really rather poorly for its first two years, until Aaron moved it into Margery’s Bed where it has enjoyed more light. We hope it will soon be in the shape in which we bought it.

Hemerocallis still thrive and we also have stargazer lilies in the main garden.

Four hours later, in mid afternoon I set out once more with my camera, giving me shifted lighting conditions.

A bee did its best to weigh down a verbena bonariensis.

Niobe could now sunbathe, and the clematis at the barrier between the garden and the back drive enjoyed light and shade;

the freckled lilies kept out of the direct sunlight;

sweet peas and hollyhocks could take it stronger.

My lens found the white flowers the best beneficiaries: sweet scented petunias, powerfully aromatic phlox, a clutch of dahlias, different Japanese anemones and the phantom hydrangea sheltered in shade this morning.

This evening we dined on prawn fish cakes, peas, and fresh crispy bread and butter with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the Carles from a second bottle.

“It Tells So Many Stories”

My early morning walk to open the back gate for Aaron displayed

various beds, yucca, evening primroses, Welsh poppies, petunias, hollyhocks, a bee using a bidens as a trapeze, phlox, agapanthus, gaura, a Large White butterfly on a verbena bonariensis, and lilies in the Rose Garden. As usual the individual images are labelled in the gallery which may be accessed by clicking any one and viewed full size by clicking the boxes underneath them then further enlarged.

Later, Nugget Junior 2nd demonstrated his prowess at darting to catch insects on the wing. We really hope he hasn’t seen off his Dad.

Before he left I printed copies for Aaron of a couple of photographs I took of him last week.

He really likes this portrait, as do I. “It tells so many stories”, he said. Most of my pictures of him go into an album which he could use, should he ever have the need, to advertise his work as A.P. Maintenance. This one will be framed and hung on his wall.

Our friends, Barbara and Adrian Chapman, sent as an e-mail attachment a copy of this well composed and executed oil painting by Adrian, based on one of my photographs and a Google street view. I particularly like his use of colour and the turn of the neck of the foreground pony, and am honoured to have provided the inspiration.

This afternoon I offered a certain amount of assistance to Jackie with the general garden maintenance. My tasks were dead-heading, pruning under instruction, and cutting up material for the compost bin.

This evening we dined on Jackie’s sumptuous savoury rice; spicy pork paprika; and pork ribs in barbecue sauce, with which she drank Hoegaarden and I finished the Squinzano.

Remembering The Bees

We managed a good morning’s work before the rain set in later in the afternoon.

I cut the grass while Jackie clipped more of the Back Drive hedge.

Part of this consisted of a fuchsia which, despite severe autumn haircuts, has really become very unkempt overgrown. Because it was the only reasonable plant in this area when we arrived were were reluctant to remove it. We have still kept a small section, but the main cluster just had to go. Discovering that it could not just be dug out without serious damage to the garden forks, Jackie employed her tried and tested Time Team technique requiring the use of a trowel. I then wielded a woodman’s axe to hack out the roots.

This clematis and these poppies form part of the planting separating the drive from the gravelled patio, in one corner of which

the hydrangea Serrata Miranda, behind and to the right of the planted urn, is thriving.

Between this plot and the Rose Garden, Elizabeth’s Bed is nicely plumped up.

The rose Ballerina dances us into the Rose Garden,

blending nicely with Florence’s petunias.

Summertime ascends the corner of the orange shed,

and the first Deep Secret bloom has survived balling from the rain to flower well enough. Balling is the term given to the soggy balls to which unopened roses are reduced when they are subjected to lengthy precipitation.

The solanum has taken over from the now spent clematis Montana the task of brightening the dead tree stump beside the New Bed.

Wedding Day rose, attracting hoverflies and beetles,

is now preparing to cast its veil over the Agriframes Arch.

Evening primrose blooms on the Back Drive northern bed,

where poppies are buzzing with bees,

which, when they expressed their disgruntlement at my poking a camera up their bums by turning on me and crawling around my head and neck, took me back to my first desperate encounter with the creatures.

In fact the only poppies that don’t harbour these beings are Californian.

This evening we dined on Mr Pink’s fish and chips, pea fritters, pickled onion, and gherkins. Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank more of the Carles.