more autumn color

I planted this rich purple Salvia last autumn I think, and it is still quite spindly, but once it fills that space between the hydrangea and hebe, I hope it may look rather lovely

it will become a dark pool in amongst all these rich reds

These are echoed, nearer the house, by the pond, where the little waterboy is ever hopeful

Then, nearer still to the house, there is another flush of rich reds and pinks, an old potted rose and another hydrangea

If you turn, these colours bounce off back past the waterboy and the maple

to the lower bed where we started

Those russets were echoed recently by a brief visitation from a regular visitor, who trotted past the back door and scampered off down the garden

What a fine tail you have Foxy Loxy

Whoosh!

Autumn garden pleasure

Gosh, I’ve managed to get from Spring to Autumn in one short step, bypassing the summer entirely. Summer contained a wonderful trip to the Faroe Islands, which I haven’t written about, because life has other priorities just now, but which was a delightful experience.

My dear heart and I managed to take our annual trip to the Lakes, though he wasn’t able to do much other than enjoy being there, sitting quietly in the Lodge, listening to sport on the radio, and sleeping rather a lot. His family came over for the first couple of days, which was a huge pleasure. We love the area both for its beauty and because, after many years of visiting, we can just relax and not feel we have to do “stuff” though I did take a couple of short trips out on my own. Again, if I can manage it, will comment on this separately.

One of the greatest joys in being away is coming home to the rolling Downs and brilliant sea washed skies which are the gift of living by the coast. And, of course, coming back to our garden which is looking pleasantly autumnal. 

The front garden, which is where most of these images were taken, was entirely created for us from a shingle desert which had housed vans and cars. It was the first thing we did after moving here in 2010, when this blog started. Now it is growing towards maturity. The weeping silver birch flows and flutters over the bed, with dainty cyclamen at its base, along with snowdrops in spring. 

There is a self seeded cotoneaster, which is very happy in the gravel parking area.

An area which had become a bit bare, but has just had primulas and pansies tucked in to bring colour as they settle in

The nerines below the bay windows love the hot sunshine and are responding accordingly, along with the irises, now long past flowering, which are trying to take over and must be disciplined next year!

A happy rose, which clashes delightfully with the pink of the nerines

And at the rear of the house, our courtyard with my “slow trees” and other plants, again bringing autumnal colour close by.

A single treat from last week, taken on the one short walk I managed. The Langdale Pikes looking like benign floating giants sleeping above one of the Elterwater lakes.

come for a wander

Our garden is singing it's quiet song just now. There is plenty of sound: the ripple of water into the pond below the mossy rockery; wind chimes in the bird tree; the little flutters, tweets and twitters of multiple birds; crows and pigeons marching, or waddling, about the lawn; jays screeching down in the Dell; squirrels racing about raiding the peanuts and a pair of seagulls with whom I am at war!  

The quiet in this garden is about the feeling of time having passed, the procession of harmonious colours, experiment over many years and some benign neglect. There are always weeds somewhere, but at this time of year, much to enjoy. It is the longest I have ever had a garden in my care, we have been here now over 14 years and I am just beginning to understand how a growing space evolves. With time you notice the way the soil works, how the light falls and what comes up when. Just now all is full of spring lightness, the colours are quiet, the plants partly from the previous owner and partly from my planting. I pop things in and care for them to a greater or lesser extent, and some thrive and some don't. The primroses are certainly thriving this year, washing the space with their delicate yellow. The camellias are out and the pulmonaria with their glowing blues, pinks and purples are just at their best.

Look one way and you'll find the shed with a camellia glowing at the end and some of the many clusters of primroses in the foreground

turn round and the pointy covered pond is there, pots full of expectation and a chair and table to sit and watch the fish as the weather warms and the chimes send out their bell like notes.

There is often a garden tool propped up somewhere, remnant of a forgotten task

The oriental lady still welcomes you along to path to the wind chimes, pulmonaria at her feet and the flowering currant nodding above.

Half way down the path, the tripod lantern holder my son in law made me some years past holds a glass lamp we brought home from Turkey many moons ago.

The rockery by the pond is always a battle to keep clear of weeds, but the moss is doing nicely these days

The little waterboy stands guard by the small steps

where some lovely daffodils, which came with the garden, give us joy each year

And in the courtyard, the promise of blossom just swelling from the buds of the miniature plum.

We are so lucky to have this peaceful spot to soothe our souls.

A little light tidying up

It is that time of year again; days get shorter, evenings milder, and things need a bit of a tidy up before winter gets here.

Yesterday was the escallonia hedge by the garage/workshop. Virginia Woolf had a fondness for escallonia, I'm not so sure. It has the most annoying habit of sending out great long bushy shoots with bee friendly clusters of flowers right at the very tip. It makes the car jump each time I park it. My preference would be for the hedge to evoke the smooth and rolling Downs, but I haven't yet found a pruning regime that encourages this (the Woolf's gardener at Talland House knew better, but I'll bet bees never frequented those straight tidy hedges). I tolerate the untidiness because oh the bees do love the flowers. My compromise this year is to take off shoots which were tickling the car door and bonnet, but leave those long ones at the top so the bees still have some nectar. I'll take those out once flowering has really finished and tidy it all up.

It does look much neater now, apart from the Fraggle Rock hairdo!

Yesterday the Japanese anemone in the back garden promised me good gardening weather. Today there was less sun, but it was also cooler.

First, another result of being too tolerant. There is a veritable forest of little fennel plants gleefully sprouting in the gravel. They smelt delicious as I plucked them up.

One of my favourite flowers, Love-in-a-Mist, popped themselves here from next door, much to my delight. I love the straight stems and contrast between the soft buff of the seedpods against the dark fence ..... but they really should come down

After that, I created a little bower where cyclamen peep out at the bottom of the tree, and black cats snooze. Can you see him?

Perhaps here?

Definitely here!

Happy cat

in the pink

The garden is rewarding us hugely at the moment, despite the incredibly dry season. Spring always seems to be very much about blue and yellow. Early summer in our garden brings a lot of pink in all its forms.

The roses are being remarkable

The paeony is just about holding its own

Then there are actual "pinks" starting to fade a little with lack of water

In geographical mood there is the deep magenta of knautia macedonica

and the wonderful gladiolus byzantinus by the pond, being admired by the little water boy - I love the way it sings with the blue of the geranium

More magenta from the lychnis, which always threatens to take over, but which was, apparently, my father's favourite plant so I allow it free reign in memory of him

and the self seeded opium poppy with its sculptural seedheads, much loved by the bees 

There are, of course, other colours out there, but I thought you'd enjoy a bit of pink

The weather has been incredibly dry, no rain for about a month, though there might be some in the next couple of days. Because we have the pond and several other drinking stations dotted about, we have had continuous activity from our local birds including this delicate little goldcrest taking an early morning bath

and the goldfinch who pours out his glorious rippling song from the top of the spruce

I was lucky enough to catch s flash of blue as the jay took off for the peanut feeder - a quicker shutter speed would have helped!

and there has been a lot of scampering under the garden seats by these two squirrels - now I wonder what that's all about!

I hope you have enjoyed a little snippet of garden colour from this hot and dry corner of the Sussex coast