It is
raining steadily outside, as it has been for most of the past 6 weeks or so. It
is supposed to be the spring, but it has been sodden and cold, dark and dreary
as far back as the Equinox. This induces in me an unfamiliar gloominess, one that
I associate with the long nights of midwinter, not this season of growth and
uplift. Having wintered well, and managed to avoid the worst of winter’s dark
hounds, it is not good to feel like this when summer is just over the horizon.
The
garden grows, and long thirsted-for rain is bringing on a surge in the borders.
Digitalis clutch towards the sky
before one’s eyes, and there are bluebells and tulips for colour now that the
yellow of daffs, Forsythia and Primulas have faded. And there is
blossom on apple trees and hawthorns. But still, the mud and drizzle mean that
forays into the garden are hurried, scuttling between house, greenhouse and
potting shed, no time to stand (let alone, sit) and fully appreciate what is
going-on.
At
the allotment, which started with great energy and enthusiasm in the weeks
before Easter, cold and wet have taken their toll. Whole sowings of early crops
have disappeared into the cold, wet earth; those plants (Broad Beans, for
instance) which were brought on early and planted out in late March, have
scarcely grown since – and who can blame them. A few brave salad potatoes have shown
through, but the anticipation of eating them on a warm evening in the garden
seems sadly misplaced.
Work
for other people has also been hard to manage, with today being the 4th
consecutive Wednesday I have had to write-off because of the poor weather. On
the other hand - come on, indulge in a
little optimism – growth in general has been held back, so lawns and borders
are not yet in need of full-on attention each week.
I am
particularly bothered by the garden I am working on for the friends whose
Silver Wedding falls in late June. All the plants I have put in so far have
struggled to make much headway, and things are running behind somewhat. I know
that, if all else fails, I can be there on the morning of their party with ‘instant’ bedding to create some
sort of effect – but it will not be the silver and blue herbaceous mélange that
I had intended and promised…
Oh, unseasonal
gloom – get away with you…bring me sunshine!