My garden is a bit of a rambling mess at the moment. We are still in the middle of winter here in NSW, and all the plants have been very slowly growing, without really appearing to advance much at all. I love going away from my garden for a few days though, because when you return it suddenly becomes apparent that new growth has taken place. There is still life in the garden, scarcely visible from day to day, but alive nonetheless.
I have a sweet potato vine that was growing rampant till the winter chill set in, and it’s just been sleeping away ever since. Amongst its rambling spread there are spears of garlic growing green, the bulbs were planted at the beginning of winter to encourage a lovely juicy harvest next autumn. My renegade mint has spread amongst the entire veggie patch, sending runners under everything. I planted a curry bush last summer and it has tripled in size, a lovely grey-green shrub that smells like the most delicious, comforting curry you could imagine.
I planted a bunch of broccoli, cabbage and cauliflower at the very start of June, in the hopes of having them well established ready to finish in late spring. I didn’t realise the spot I picked in the garden is in full shade all day, so sadly they are still very tiny. The only plants that are growing vigorously down there are weeds, which always seem to look very similar to the plants they try and choke out. It’s a fascinating phenomenon and I wonder if you have ever seen this in your garden?
There are three sturdy Cos lettuce that have soldiered through the cold, and outlived all six others that were devoured by stealthy nighttime pests. The only evidence of their visit shown in glistening trails of destruction, reflecting the morning sunlight like so many lines of sticky dew.
Lining the outer edges of one end of my garden an array of bulbs are spreading, new leaves appearing daily as they soak up the pale warm winter sunshine. Anemone and Ranunculi alternating along two borders, with a spread of daffodils in between. The daffodils are such an early surprise, they have put up numerous spears topped with swollen flower buds. Some blooms have already opened, blessing me with their sweet, rich fragrance when I brush past. They came out just two or three days ago, and are magnificent. My Mum gave me the daffodil bulbs a year ago, and I think of her every time I see them, and breathe in their intoxicating fragrance. The heady aroma of fresh daffodils is truly delightful!
I love the early flowers, whispering the arrival of spring. Spring is still a good month away for us, but the daffodils don’t mind and neither do I. I’ll be out in my garden again tomorrow morning, smelling my delicious daffodils and enjoying the beauty that is woven into the fabric of all creation, evidence of a Master Craftsman.